Eternally Yours
by gazebows
Summary: Suze encounters two new ghosts. One is rather mysterious and infuriating, and the other one is a girl that croaked more than 100 years ago and has a relationship with Jesse that may enable him to finally move on...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- I don't really own anything, much less Meg Cabot's characters.  
  
Summary- First a mysteriously infuriating ghost hottie shows up at Suze's school, and then she discovers another dead girl that croaked more than 100 years ago. What's more is that the girl just may be the one to enable Jesse to finally move on...  
  
A/n- Well, I tore apart my first Mediator fanfic (okay, so it was only a prologue and one chapter) and am starting over again. So if you recognize anything from this first chapter, you'll know why. Please R&R! Btw, this takes place after Haunted. (as if that's not obvious...)

  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Kelly Prescott was still going on and on about the upcoming pep rally and how she _so_ wants it to be the most memorable one in all the history of Mission Academy when I suddenly snapped my head up. I had, actually, been leaning into my desk slyly and welcoming my chestnut hair to fall into my face so no one will get suspicious that I was dozing off sitting in my chair straight as a flag pole or something. I mean, as vice president of this school, I should definitely be paying attention to every word the president is saying about showing school spirit and improving the procedures of an approaching event, right? Well, yeah I guess, but everything Kelly Prescott says is incredibly boring and cliché and of course, hypocritical. How anyone could stand to hear her talk for like, 45 minutes straight is beyond me.  
  
Anyway, the reason I jerked awake was because, while I was sitting there just dreaming of Jesse's soft and tender touch, an image of Paul Slater popped into my head. You know, the all time jerk who thinks he's the most stunning guy on the planet? The one who has a demented mind that works in its own deranged ways? Yeah, that'd be him. It wouldn't exactly be unusual that a picture of him just unexpected appeared in my brain, since I always have to be extra careful about him, with him constantly plotting to destroy mine or Jesse's life and all. But this time, it is rather weird... because the image was of Paul sitting on his hospital bed, just staring straight head at nothing. I was pretty disturbed to notice that he looked very, very lonely and tired. I mean, that is definitely not like the Paul I know. Dreary and exhausted? Nuh-uh. So not Paul Slater.  
  
But, maybe, just maybe, he's changed while he's staying at the hospital. He originally gone there to treat his wounds from a very intense fight with Jesse, but I believe he really went there to nurse his bruised ego that probably shrank to the size of a jellybean. It was formally the size of Jupiter, approximately. Serves him right for sticking his nose where it doesn't belong, if you ask me.  
  
"Suze... SUZE!" Kelly yelled.  
  
Startled out of my little reverie, I glared at her and went in just the same irritating tone as the one she used: "What?"  
  
"I asked you if you would like to say anything or make any additional suggestions to the pep rally I'd been planning for the past 40 minutes."  
  
Kelly, still staring at me with her eyes narrowed into unbelievably small slits, tapped her foot impatiently while I just tipped my chair back and gazed at her thoughtfully.  
  
"Of course not, Kelly," I said brightly, speaking at last. "I'm sure you have everything planned out perfectly."  
  
"Well, yes, but I have to go over several other things first and review the process of everything before we can all go."  
  
And on and on she went again. As usual, I tuned her out. It wasn't worth listening to her rambling when I've already heard it about a thousand times before. Instead, I just sat there and debated whether to daydream about Jesse again or ponder over Paul. Ordinarily that's hardly even a choice. But this time, it's different. Yeah. I couldn't exactly help musing over a certain expression that is confusing me to death.  
  
About 30 minutes later, I had made a choice out of total instinct. Then, I was out of that narcotic classroom and running down the hall toward the double doors at the end of the hallway, when suddenly I collided head on into someone and heard this painful howl of "Oww!"  
  
I looked up into the second glare of the day of someone about the same age of me, maybe a couple of years older. He was causally dressed, his clothes covering his figure, which I couldn't help but notice, was very fine. He had a strong nose, full lips, and definitely high cheekbones. He had longish hair, with a simple flock covering one eye, giving him that mysterious, dangerous, look. Instantly an alarm in my head went off, and that, added to my already disturbing headache that had erupted when I crashed into him, was enough to make me grab onto the nearby lockers to keep from falling into a sick pile of flesh on the floor.  
  
"What's with you?" The guy asked, in this irritated and sorta snobby voice. Such a turn on. Not.  
  
"I think the question would be, what's with YOU?" I was still gasping for breath, so my voice came out really raspy, and I'm not sure that the guy even understood me.  
  
But apparently he did, if his response was any indication.  
  
"What do you mean, what's with ME? Nothing is wrong with me. You're the one who's having some trouble breathing over there. As if that's really hard to do."  
  
Now, I appreciate sarcasm as much as the next person, but I did not like his tone. Like he's so much more superior than me. Whatever.  
  
"I meant," I said through gritted teeth, "why you're lingering around in my school. What favor do you want to ask of me to help you move on."  
  
The guy first looked rather confused, than glanced at me, next himself. Surprise dawned on his gorgeous features -I'm sorry, but it's true-, than disappointment. I guess he wasn't expecting to see just an outline of himself.  
  
"Wait a minute... how can you see me anyway?" He asked, sounding genuinely baffled. "No one else can..."  
  
Oh yeah. Did I mention that he's a ghost?  
  
"Because," I said, tiredly rubbing my head, "I'm a mediator. I help the dead."  
  
Suddenly the guy's all eager, coming closer to me and asking, "Oh, does that mean you can help me come back to life?"  
  
You'd think an 18-year-old person would know by now that when you're dead, you're dead, but apparently not this certain snob. I mean, I can see why that's the first question I get whenever I meet a ghost, but come on, accept it, peeps, and just MOVE ON. What's so hard about figuring out that if the longer you stay in this world, the longer it's going to take you to get to wherever you're destined to be after you die?  
  
"Oh yes, of course, that's exactly what mediators do," I said sarcastically, dashing away the small flick of hope in the poor guy's eye. Well so sorry, but it's his fault for actually thinking something so absurd could actually happen in the first place. What's so great about being alive anyway? No one's ever grateful for anything you do. It's when you die that people finally starts appreciating you. It's rather ironic, if you ask me.  
  
"So, really, what can I do to help you?" I asked in a kinder tone. No one deserves to be reminded of the fact that he/she's dead, and this guy is no exception. It doesn't hurt to act friendly, so I'll try. But if he doesn't applaud the kindness I'm going out of my way to show him, then he can be trapped in this world for all eternity for all I care.  
  
He gazed at me intently for a moment, and after a while I looked away, too uncomfortable to meet that one gray eye any longer. Something about him is quite unnerving, maybe perhaps that lock of hair covering his other eye? Could something be hidden in there? A truth waiting to be discovered? A secret yearning to be revealed? Whatever the case is, I wanted desperately to know what's shrouded in there, what that eye concealed. Maybe I should just...  
  
Oh, what the hell. I needed to get out of there. I had somewhere to go.  
  
"Okay, if you have nothing more to say to me, then can you please get out of my way so I can leave?"  
  
Right at that moment, I was feeling totally fed up. So without even waiting for a response, I just pushed the dead guy aside and stomped toward the double doors.  
  
"Actually, I do need some help," the guy called after me. "You claim to be a mediator but you walk away from the dead like it's the most natural thing in the world? Have you no sympathy at all? I thought those people who assist ghosts are kind-hearted and patient. I never expected I'd be so lucky as to meet someone like you as my 'savior'."  
  
I was getting really tired of his sarcasm. And saying I'm not sympathetic or kind or patient? Maybe he should listen to himself talk sometime. Judging by that superficial smirk on his face I saw as I turned around slowly, he'd be way surprised that the person whose mouth those words sprouted from was his own. And what's up with saying I "claimed" I'm a mediator? I AM a mediator. I could see him when no one else could, right? Jeez. Someone obviously needs to go get a clue.  
  
"I'm dead, girl, so you better help me," he said, a fake pouty puppy look on his face.  
  
"I don't fall for guilt trips," I said stonily, but scowling all the same. "And I told you, I'm busy right now. It's not like you can't afford to wait. You should have all the time in the world right now, huh?"  
  
Then, attempting to get away from him again, I just started walking down the hallway. But this time he followed me. Trying to ignore the ghostly figure that's disturbingly gliding beside me, I kept my eyes averted straight ahead and quickened my pace. Which of course did me no good.  
  
Truth is, the guy is kind of creeping me out. You know, with the whole serious and mysterious thingy one minute and the sarcasm and mockery the next. I never knew someone who can change directions so fast. Hopefully, he'll find whatever it is that's keeping him here and move on ASAP. Which meant if I wanted him out of this world quicker than you can say, "shadowland", I had to help him.  
  
"Look", I told him, now out of the school building and walking as fast as I can. "Can we talk again later? Just give me three hours."  
  
"If you say so."  
  
Then he dismaterialized.  
  
Well. That's interesting. I had expected some kind of protest, or at least a sneed comment or, if he just pretend to ignore hearing me. But whatever. I'll deal with that later, after I've had a little chat with a certain Paul Slater at the hospital.  
  
I owed him that much, I think. He did get into the fight in the first place because of me. But he did implied something that wasn't true to Jesse. God, he made it sound like we were actually doing something totally morally twisted when all we were, were just, um, tongue wrestling. Or jabbing a finger into his eye. Jesse would be better off just hearing the latter. Nevertheless, Jesse IS the one that jumped to conclusions. Conclusions that were actually related to what we were doing but not exactly. Anyway, how could Jesse even think I'd do such a thing? Behind his back, no less. I'd NEVER commit that kind of crime when I was so undeniably in love with him. Jesse should no doubt know that. Does the fact that he possibly doesn't, and that he imagined what I'd done –or haven't done- mean he doesn't trust me?  
  
Nonsense. That can't be true, I told myself, pushing that one thought away from my head. He was just coming to my rescue from the all-time jerk Paul, and all he was trying to do was teach him a lesson to stay away from me.  
  
But back to Paul. It has already been two days since he got carried away to the hospital. I wasn't that cruel and selfish as not to go visit him when he got the wounds partially –but of course, not wholly- because of me. I can't believe he was that stupid that he'd actually pick fights with Jesse. I mean, I'm quite flattered that they were somewhat fighting over ME, but come on, no one asked for it to become that intense. What's wrong with admitting surrender? Oh, wait, sorry I forgot. His gawddamn ego was at stake. Of course that's worth breaking every bone in his body for. Sheesh.  
  
But anyway, aside from my guilty conscience, I also needed some answers. Some REAL answers. Not the little enigmatic comments here and there. Not the sarcastic touch to his tone that's meant for me to back off. No way. Not this time. This time, I will get some kind of explanation, useful or not, or I'm not leaving. But knowing Paul, he naturally wouldn't even want me to leave. Great. Just Great.  
  
And that, was that I was contemplating when I arrived outside his hospital door 15 minutes later. What the heck I was going to do to get him to break down and give me any sort of response that does not include total crap or isn't intended as a distraction?  
  
Well. I had no idea. But I'll think of something. I always do.  
  
With that in mind, I got all ready to knock on his hospital door, when all of a sudden I heard a voice behind me that more or less froze the blood circulation in my veins.  
  
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Susannah Simon."  
  
Um, sounds familiar?

  
  
A/n- Finally done! Okay, I'll admit that this first chapter isn't exactly that interesting and captivating, but what did you expect? First chappies are always one of the hardest for me, because I have to try so hard to make sure you guys don't fall asleep or something. But of course, I left tons of loose ends, so hopefully later chapters will be more entertaining. Oh btw, I really didn't get the 'lock of hair' thing from Nicola and the Viscount. Seriously, I came up with this first chapter plot thingy before I even read that book. And please review. I want your honest opinion. Constructive criticism are welcomed. If you're gonna flame me, at least include some helpful advice with it, all right? But I'd highly appreciate it if you could tell me what you think. Thank you and bye for now!


	2. Chapter 2

A/n- Well, here's the second chapter. A huge thank you to those who reviewed. Your opinions are very much appreciated!

  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Instead of following my instinct to just whip around as fast as I can, I turned toward the sound of the voice slowly. Lifting my head up to a pair of sardonic blue eyes gazing straight back at me, a timid smile reached my lips. Okay, so the smile was just an act, and it was purely because I felt a little scared too. I mean, I didn't see anyone around us. I thought hospitals were supposed to be busily buzzing with activities, but apparently not this private institute. So I was just being polite, and I didn't exactly want to start a staring match or anything. But Paul perhaps was just too thick to realize the meaning behind my expression, or he just didn't feel like facing the truth. He does that a lot, you know. The whole I'll-believe-whatever-I-want-to-believe thing. I guess one of them includes thinking I actually have some sort of romantic feelings toward him. Ugh.  
  
Coming closer, Paul -covered in bandage from head to toe. Well, not that bad, but you know what I mean- grinned at me and said easily, "Hi Suze, what're you doing here?"  
  
As if that's not obvious. He just wants too bad to torture me into saying whatever it is he wants to hear. And this time, I'll have to say it. Where's the harm in stating the truth, right?  
  
"Coming to see how you're doing," I replied nonchalantly.  
  
Raising one of his eyebrows, Paul regarded me with a skeptical, and yet amusing, look. "Finally realized that you care, huh?"  
  
"I care about your welfare, even though you've done very little to deserve it," I said honestly.  
  
Paul just looked at me. "I should be able to leave in just a few days. The wounds wasn't that bad. Your boyfriend obviously didn't specifically want to kill me."  
  
It was on the tip of my tongue to inform him that that was exactly what Jesse's intentions were, but I clamped my mouth shut and just smiled at him again. Much as it pained to put on such an act, I had to please him to get what I want. Sad how now I was beginning to use the Slater tricks.  
  
"So let's go inside," Paul said, waving toward his hospital door. "Where we can have some privacy."  
  
While I didn't like the way he'd said privacy one bit, I didn't argue. Following him inside to his hospital room, I glanced around at my surroundings and was quite impressed.  
  
The room is very large, with a huge screen TV and a fridge posed several feet in front of the bed. Blue velvet curtains hanged down from two massive windows right behind the carefully made up bed. The door to the bathroom was open, and it revealed a porcelain sink and tub. A toilet sat at the far corner, with a help button positioned on the wall directly at the left. Back inside the room, there were a very comfy looking couch and a couple of chairs and stools. Gesturing toward one of the seats for me, Paul himself sat down on the sofa.  
  
"So Suze," Paul began once I chose the seat farthest away from him. "What's the real reason you're here?"  
  
Smoothing down my denim skirt as I gingerly sat down, I avoided his gaze and instead focused on the pillow on his bed. The edges were made very nicely and there doesn't seem to be a single crease in them. I had to learn the secret so I can impress Jesse later with my superb pillow folding techniques. Yeah. Like he would be impressed at something as shallow as that.  
  
Driving those insane and absurd thoughts away from my head, I finally met Paul's eyes. There doesn't seem to be any point in lying. Even he should at least know by now that I couldn't care less if he were alive or dead. Well, the saint in me would feel some sort of sorrow, but that'll probably be it. All he has done ever since I met him during the summer was torture my boyfriend and me. He has shown no sympathy toward any of my feelings, and he was cruel enough to leave me for the dead. Myself I wasn't really that worried about, but hello, how could he do that to Jesse? He didn't know one single thing concerning him. Well, except that he's a ghost. And that I just happens to be in love with him. But that's it. His entire opinion of him was based on only two things. TWO! Either Paul really loathes ghosts or he just cares too much about my love life. Take your pick.  
  
And then there's Jack. His own blood brother. The little guy was scared to death that he sees dead people and thinks he's the most abnormal kid on Earth. So what did Paul do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He just let Jack suffered without offering any kind of advice or sympathy. I don't think Paul has an ounce of compassion in him. If he did, he would have at least been kind enough to explain the whole mediating situation to Jack instead of waiting for me to come along and smooth the poor guy's ruffled feathers. God knows what would have gone on if I didn't get stuck with baby-sitting the youngest Slater. Jack would most likely still be lying inside some stuffy room all day watching TV. And thinking he's destined to be forever seen as a psychopath.  
  
Paul shouldn't have gone so far as manipulating his own brother, but he sure did. The whole working-with-murders-and-using-his-brother-to-exorcise- Jesse was too sick to even mention. Imagine what would've happened if Jack hadn't told me that he got rid of Jesse "for me". But there's a good to every bad sitch, right? Jesse KISSED me a little after I rescued him. Seriously. I almost swooned. (Kidding, I'm kidding.)  
  
Before Paul and his family left California, Paul left me a note. Something or other about teaching a blind guy to fish and him in turn stealing all your fish or whatever. Don't ask me what that means, cos to this day I still have no idea. I don't really WANT to know, to tell you the truth. (A/n- I kind of do have a clue as to what that means, but obviously this is Suze's story, not mine. ::rolls eyes::)  
  
So anyway, after all that has happened between us, you can imagine my surprise when Paul showed up in my school at the start of my junior year. Of all the nerve! Does the guy have stalking issues or what? He even lured me into his house, then attempted to rape me. Well, okay, not that extreme. Especially since I kind of did lead him on, with the whole kissing him back thing. But that was just my teenage hormones acting up. He should have realized that before things went too far. When I didn't want to continue our little game on his bed anymore, he wouldn't let me go and I ended up with no ride home. How my poor feet suffered...  
  
Then that leads us to the fight. And we all know how THAT turned out.  
  
Focusing my attention back to Paul, I opened my mouth and began to give him an answer when suddenly a ghost materialized in his room.  
  
And sadly, it wasn't Jesse.

Half an hour later, I was speedily walking toward my house, the ghost guy floating close at my heels. Glaring at him out of the corner of my eye, I spat out, "I thought I told you to give me three hours! It wasn't even one before you so rudely showed up."  
  
He, however, did not look the slightest bothered or alarmed. Shrugging those broad shoulders, he gazed far off at the horizon and went, "I got bored. There isn't much a ghost could do for fun, you know. Except, of course, the usual."  
  
I didn't have to ask to know what "the usual" are. Ghosts performing practical jokes and never getting caught for it. How fun. And conniving.  
  
It does get rather boring after a while, I guess. But still. He could have respected my privacy and waited! Yeah. Instead of unexpected materializing in Paul's hospital room and interrupting whatever we were doing. Which happened to be only talking. But it really wasn't any of his business anyway. If you ask me, he had no right to just pop up like that when I could've been having a heart-to-heart with Paul. Not that I was, you know. We didn't even say like 3 sentences to each other before dead guy arrived on the scene. And made a mess of everything.  
  
"Well, thanks a lot," I snapped. "First you get into a witty sparring match with a sick pervert desperate for any kind of entertainment, then you gets us kicked out for destroying public property. Even if it wasn't entirely under your control, you could have at least TRIED to keep your temper in check. Getting involved with Paul Slater is never a good thing."  
  
"Oh don't worry," ghost guy replied, giving me a killer grin. "It was the most fun I've had in a while."  
  
"That," I said, giving him my most intimidating look, "is so not the point."  
  
"And what exactly IS the point?"  
  
"That you show no respect to the female sex!"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean you can just come and go in my presence as you please!"  
  
"What did you expect? That I was actually going to wait around for three hours with nothing to do except poke fun at old people in parks?"  
  
"YES!"  
  
"Gee. Look who's showing respect now."  
  
"This isn't about me. This is about you not having any decency and getting me kicked out when I did absolutely nothing to deserve it."  
  
"What were you doing in there anyway?"  
  
"That is totally none of your business."  
  
"Want me to make it my business?"  
  
"Stop straying away from the topic!"  
  
"What exactly are you so fed up about?"  
  
"That you interrupted something really important which you of course wouldn't understand in the least."  
  
"What makes you so sure?"  
  
"Because you broke your promise to wait for three hours!"  
  
"Gawd, are you always like this?"  
  
"What is that suppose to mean?"  
  
"Just that you're being awfully annoying. If you want respect, you gotta earn it. Seeing as how you treated me when I first met you, what makes you think I was gonna listen to anything you say?"  
  
That shut me up. Not exactly what he'd said. Oh no. Just that I was beginning to realize how snobbishly whiny I sounded. Really, I never whine or spat nonsense like I was doing just then. Either this guy has some sort of charm that make me break my own rules or I was just surprisingly mad over what happened over at the hospital.  
  
I really thought I had a chance to find out whatever it is that Paul happens to be hiding. I was all ready to show him the sparkly new Susannah Simon who thinks control freaks are adorable kittens when HE came along and screwed up my so-called plan. To make a long story short, they were arguing (Like, REALLY arguing) over something or other about PUCK –whatever that actually is-, when Paul said something that I guess really sent Puck freak over the edge. And you know how ghosts get when they're really angry. Crash, came the flower vase. Clang, went the bathroom door. Boom, there goes the sodas in the fridge. It would have even being somewhat funny if an immaculately dressed nurse hadn't came in just then, took one look at the mess in the room, and ordered to me to get out and get out now. I had no choice but to go, dragging an invisible-to-normal-humans ghost behind me.  
  
So the visit was a total waste. Not only did I learn absolutely nothing about Paul's many secrets, but I now also have the misfortune of getting stuck with some ghost who gets violent over a Shakespeare character. At least I think that's the Puck they were talking about. It was rather hard to follow along with their lightning paced conversation when I more or less had no idea how one statement related to the next.  
  
"What's your name?" I suddenly asked him. We were already in front of my house now. Getting my key out of my purse, I glanced over at him.  
  
If he were surprised at the sudden topic change, he didn't show it. "Why ask now? So you can introduce me to your parents?"  
  
Opening the front door, I sighed. Ignoring his mockery tone, I replied, "No. Just so I call you something other than some character from Shakespeare."  
  
"Excuse me? What does Shakespeare have to do with any of this?"  
  
Keeping my voice low so no one in my family will hear me talking to myself and get suspicious, I slowly began walking toward and up the stairs. "You know, the whole Puck thing."  
  
"What?" he snickered. "You thought we were talking about Shakespeare characters? How intelligent. I have to say, I'm stunned that you find me so tragic as to being obsessed with one of his characters."  
  
"Well," I said, annoyed. "That's the only Puck that I've ever heard of. And I believe the question isn't you're tragic or not -which you actually happen to be-, but I think I asked you what your name is."  
  
"Oh that," Puck boy said, smirking. "Why don't you just call me Puck?"  
  
I shot him one last glare before opening my bedroom door and going inside. But after my fingers switched on the light, I blinked in surprised at what was sitting on the windowsill.  
  
Or rather, who.  
  
Once again, it wasn't Jesse.  
  
But this time, it's the exact female version of him.

  
  
A/n- Mwahahahahahaha, what a lame cliffie. The choices are obvious as who it is. Jesse's mother, sister, or daughter. Hey, it could be his daughter. He had a life before he died, you know. But I guess no one wants to believe that our sweet, lovely Jesse would do something so twisted and not pay for the consequences... ::sigh::  
  
I admit, this chapter was mostly fluff. But every book or story contains some sort of fluff in it, right? Whether it be so it'll be more interesting, longer, yada yada yada. Or it could be for you to get to know the characters better. And the whole Puck thing was just an instinct. And it really isn't the Shakespeare character, even though I'm pretty sure that Shakespeare had one. Whatever. I'm mindlessly rambling again. However sucky you may think this chapter was with all the fluffy beginnings leading toward the discovery of Jesse's mother/sister/daughter, REVIEW!!!


	3. Chapter 3

A/n- Um, first of all, sorry if I confused anyone with the whole Puck thing. What can I say? I guess I'm just too obsessed with the book Focus On THIS! I'm trying to get that cleared up next chapter or so, if at all.  
  
Second of all, I'm doing this chapter as a songfic on Paul's thoughts at the hospital after Suze left. It somewhat relates to later chapters. And no, I'm not delaying the discovery so the blow that Suze finding out Jesse isn't a virgin (GASP- he has a daughter?) isn't going to be too hard. Now, I'm not saying that it's his daughter, I'm just saying I need a break from the main story. And get into the brain of our lovely Paulie.  
  
Some responses to reviews:

Clavel- I wish I had an alter ego like you do. (now, where did that come up? I must have issues with stating random topics.) And yes, I adore cliffies. They're so fun to write.

Alisa- You're not the only one wasting time. I'm doing it right now since I'm kind of stuck on how to start this songfic. And I can't help depriving myself. Bad habits ARE hard to break.

Kat- Yes, I know you! From the Twilight message boards. Especially the fanfiction topic. Lol, that thread is kind of turning into a cooking one. Not that I'm complaining. Cooking=fun-even-if-I-can't-do-it-to-save-my- life.

Jerry- I already talked to you on AIM. I love tormenting you, don't you?

Kelly- Aw, you're being too nice. And Jesse's daughter? You sure? Lol.

Meg- Thanks so much!

Oenone- Glad you like it!

Oh yeah. Add a thank you to every individual comment.  
  
Now that I have spent enough time ranting, on to the songfic.  
  
Artist: Green Day  
  
Song: Pulling Teeth (I don't really understand why it's called that, since I find nowhere in the song was there mentioned anything about 'pulling' or 'teeth' or 'pulling teeth'. But I am not completely stupid as to not realize that it's just a metaphor.)  
  
So I was just looking at the lyrics of my CD collection one day, and this song seemed absolutely perfect to describe Paul's situation right now. The lyrics are simple, but you gotta read between the lines. Most Green Day song are like that, hidden meaning and all. Anyway, this song is somewhat short, but that's okay. Read and review it, please! 

  
  
Chapter 3- Songfic  
  
Suze, you have no idea what I have been through. All the secrets that have been kept away from the ones I trust and care about are tearing me apart, eating me away, day after day, year after year. It's pure torture when you're inside this body, putting up a front for all time just to protect what you fear may one day be revealed and taken away forever. If it's this life you gotta live, then you have no choice but to learn to survive with no hope. No love. No freedom. No justice. No FAITH.  
  
But I can't be just anybody. Even with all the challenges and roadblocks in my path, I find a way. I wasn't merely born as any other blonde haired, blue-eyed, cynical mediator. I was one who grew up doing what he is told, not knowing what contradiction truly means. But what about now? Now my fate isn't any different, but I have changed in many ways that would make my grandfather "proud". This day, I may only watch and listen, but I also know. I understand. I have what it takes to improve lives, and also destroy them when I please. Because not only was I a just mediator, but I was one with a unique destiny. A destiny that has brought me here today, in this sick and twisted hospital bed, once again staring at the ceiling and wondering if all has been lost in this awfully empty world.  
  
_**I'm all busted up  
  
Broken bones and nasty cuts  
  
Accidents will happen  
  
But this time I can't get up**_  
  
Do I even want to? It feels nice for a change, to just lie here on the bed, not contemplating anymore schemes, not worrying about destroying anymore fragile souls. It hurts. It truly does. To see their expressionless eyes glaze over, losing all hope. To hear their hollowed cries, screaming like a deaf man demanding justice. To feel their numbly dead touch, silently pleading for freedom. To balance out all their dreams, and knowing that they'll never get anywhere, because in their heart, there isn't love. As for a long time, they have already lost faith. Without that, there is nothing. Nothing will never again turn into something unless they store faith in the right place. Some may have truly lost it and will never encounter it again, but others have only misplaced it. They will find it, if they truly want to.  
  
What about me, though? What category do I belong in? I haven't thought about this for so long, since I didn't feel as if it were truly important anymore. A simple and clear vision of Susannah Simon was all it took for me to hit on the brakes, shift my direction, and steer toward her path and discover what lies in the center. I was immensely making progress, too. You know, one minute I was on this road, straight and narrow, leading toward Simon's heart, and the next minute I was flipped over on the far side, radio still blasting at full power and wheels spinning out of control. And it was all the cause of a certain Jesse De Silva.  
  
**_After all she's the one...  
  
Who put me in this state._**  
  
Someone definitely had to pay. Why not just him? He was the only thing that then was in my way, depriving me of my sight to see everything for it all truly was, and therefore resulting in the huge screw up. For the first time in my life, I went with the flow, not planning out every single step beforehand. And where exactly did it get me? Nowhere. Oh what hell, it actually got me to plenty of places. First into Simon's brittle heart. She was having a battle with uncertainty, that I could see clearly. It was either hit or miss, and it depended entirely on one thing. I was sure with one more blow she'd be all mine. See, she wasn't experienced at all, and that I could work to my advantage to win her over. I was one millimeter away from the finish line when de Silva came along, knocked all the sense out of me, and in a speed faster than lightning, he snagged the trophy AND the girl. If my doubts are really someone else's point of view, what he did could be considered as fair. So why do I feel as if I was cheated? That everything I did out of pure instinct was later viewed as a lie? Do they really think every action I took was all for my own benefit? Does Simon think that?  
  
**_Is she ultra-violent?  
  
Is she disturbed?  
  
I better tell her I love her  
  
Before she does it all over again,  
  
Oh God, she's killing me!!!_**  
  
Without even thinking it over, I know the answer is 'yes'. Whenever she's anywhere near me, I feel her icy heart. She's cold. Colder than a glacier. Everything she says to me are lifeless, meaningless. It's as if all things that shape her then becomes frozen, numb, unfeeling. Do I do that to her? Am I truly able to affect her that much? Do I really have the ability to make her paralyzed in her own emotions? Even so, why does she let me? Why can't she fight back? Why just sit there, fuming about what an evil guy I am, and not go out there and discover the truth herself?  
  
She may be surprised if she does. I myself have tried countless times to make her understand, to explain my motives, to prove to her that I'm not all the devil she made me out to be. Yet does she give me a chance before I can even begin to start? Does she look beyond anything in me besides all the mistakes I have unseeingly made when I was lost without anything to call my own? Does she even attempt to define me, to peel away the hard exterior on the outside and uncover layers and layers of scorn, irony, and all the other characteristics I possess and finally expose the innermost coating of hurt and insecurity?  
  
It's easier said than done to just tell her straight out how I feel about her. What kind of person I think she is trying to hide. Who she has slowly come to mean to me in a way I never imagined possible. Where her place is now in my heart even though she doesn't want to be there. When she first entered there and gave me the biggest scare of my life. Why even right now, I can't face the truth, the reality, the certainty, of my own body, mind, soul, and spirit.  
  
**_For now I'll lie around  
  
Hell, that's all I can really do  
  
She takes good care of me  
  
Just keep saying my love is true._**  
  
I can't say I was exactly shocked to find her standing outside my hospital room's door. Somehow I was expecting her visit. She may believe that it was only her guilty conscience that lured her here, but I know otherwise. While she was busy fumbling around with her words and phrases and staring continuously at nothing, I was studying her, her expression, her posture. As usual, her face was blank, her words frosty, her form stiff. She didn't want to be there. She didn't really care about how I was doing. Only one thing was keeping her from bolting out the door and never looking back. What? She wants to find out what I've been trying to hide about the kind of the person I was meant to be? She wants to know the secrets about my past that is standing in my way, blocking me from enjoying the present and providing me with a dread of the future? Or is she only interested in what I have to tell her relating to mediating and mediators?  
  
Funny. I never asked to be able to see and speak to the dead. I never wanted the power to help ghosts move on. I would never have the need to go back in time. How would all those things help me achieve my real goals? They only zigzag my path, distracting me from what I set out to do, and in the end, I'm always at where I began, or in a place I don't recognize or want to belong in. As usual, I feel isolated, lacking in strength, power, intensity. And life. Loneliness isn't a pleasant feeling. It's constantly there, tugging at the edge of your mind, demanding you to acknowledge it and chase it away. Ignoring it only makes it more persistent, buzzing bluntly every second of your life, laughing maniacally in your face whenever you're alone. I have experienced that feeling and much more. I had no desire to be one of their weak preys. I set out, seeking for someone. And I saw her. It didn't work out at that time. It won't work now. But every response she makes enables me to believe that there might be something in me that's not dead after all.  
  
**_Looking out my window for  
  
Someone that's passing by  
  
No one knows I'm locked in here  
  
All I do is cry..._**  
  
Nevertheless, now she is gone. This gloomy room is again empty, still, unoccupied by any form of energy. I am by myself once more, feeling like some sort of social tool without any use. Nothing in me is alive. Nothing in this place seems familiar. Nothing in this world can fit the scattered pieces of me together, or fill the gaping hole in my hollow heart. It is hard to accept, but everything is hopeless. Too much have been sent my way to torment me, causing floods of pain, distress, grief. The agony of me. What's the use in fighting my own existence? That's how life works. If you play by the rules of reality, then what you get is a big, fat, extravagant fantasy turned into a super episode of pathetic nightmare. Ironic. I have long given up.  
  
Scream at me until my ears bleed, and I still can't hear you. Stare at me until all feeling has left my face, and I still can't see you. Hold me until our bodies fuse into one, and I still can't feel you. Show all the affection you may sense you have for me, and I still can't love you. For a long time now, I have believed that I was always just born unlovable. But now, as I lie here in a sick mound of flesh glaring up at all the new bare naked truths that have materialized before me, I finally realize the truth: No one is ever born unlovable. Some just become that way... like me.

  
  
A/n- There're two parts to Paul Slater: The mocking, normal teenage part of him that mostly everyone assumes as evil(...), and the serious, cynical part of him that enables almost all to believe that he has psychological issues(...). I toyed with the his cynical side and out came this songfic.  
  
Oh yeah. Before you flame me with all the 'Paul isn't like that at all... he should be thinking evil thoughts about how to ruin Suze's life and his next attempt to rape her... he is just plain EVIL ...' and yada yada yada, please keep in mind that I was portraying the side of Paul that dissed Kelly Prescott, not the side of Paul that lured Suze into his house and lied to Jesse. Okay. Review!


	4. Chapter 4

A/n- THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH for all the wonderful reviews I received for my first ever songfic. Good to know that I'm not the only one who doesn't think Paul is evil. Here is the latest chapter, and you'll soon discover what relation the girl has with Jesse. Please read ALL OF IT and then review.

  
  
Chapter 4  
  
"You are... are you... Ohmigod... you can't be..." I was seriously stuttering. And my mouth kept opening and closing like a stupid fish undersea. While I just stood there, dumbfounded, and staring at her like a total idiot, the ghost girl still sat on the windowsill, perfectly stiff and rigid.  
  
"Oh. My. God." I finally gasped. "You are Jesse's daughter."  
  
I was extremely proud of myself that I didn't immediately just burst into tears after I said that. That is what I wanted to do, though. You can't exactly blame me, since you know perfectly well you would have wanted to do the same thing if you found that out about your boyfriend. That during his teenage years, he wasn't the perfect role model either. That when he had the chance, he also took advantage of women just the same. That when he made the biggest mistake of his life, he escaped from the situation because he didn't want to face the consequences. That when he-  
  
Shut up, Suze, I snapped at myself. I was just imagining a whole bunch of bullshit. I didn't live with Jesse for almost a year and not know that he wouldn't just walk away from any kind of responsibility. Even if it may destroy or forever ruin his reputation, I was sure that Jesse would stay with whoever the lucky woman is and guide her through thick and thin.  
  
But if that's the case, how did he end up engaged to Maria???  
  
Oh Lordie. I took a huge intake of breath and willed the tears that are pricking at the back of my eyes to not fall. There has to be a much more reasonable explanation than what I have instinctively come up with. Maybe they had an agreement. Maybe they figured it was for the best for both of them. Maybe they realized that they weren't meant to be stuck with each other even if they have created an unwanted burden between them. Maybe Jesse didn't even know. Maybe it all happened against their will. Maybe-  
  
I interrupted my wild stream of "maybes" with a violent shake of my head. I was jumping to conclusions. Conclusions that may all proven to be false, conclusions that may be completely irrelevant to everything. Or conclusions that may result in my worst nightmare coming true, I added silently.  
  
Whipping my head around one more time, I trained my gaze on the girl on the windowsill, and spoke in a clear but small voice, "I can't believe it..."  
  
The girl, however, just looked at me like she had no idea what the heck I was talking about. No doubt to not make me any more distressed than I already felt. Well, it's not going to work. The pain of Jesse doing something like that –accident or not- is not going to go away. Not ever. He may have understood his actions as he sat here in my room for all those decades after he passed away, but somehow, some way, his past have now caught up with him. And one way or another, this time he has to pay.  
  
Oh please. Those words were what I was telling myself, but the only thing I really feel right now is sorrow. Pure and pure. Thick enough to slice a knife through it. And still the bottom is far away. Grief. Mixed with anger. And hurt.  
  
"Hey, are you okay?" Puck, standing besides me, asked, one eyebrow disappearing into his curly hair. He actually sounded pretty concerned. For a ghost who spends quality time mocking and disrespecting my privacy. And who doesn't have the decency or patience to wait for a mere three hours. And who thinks Shakespeare's characters is funny. And-  
  
Get a grip, Simon, I muttered silently to myself. The whole thing is ridiculously frazzling my nerves, making everything seem more serious than it actually is. Normally I couldn't care less which annoying ghost I'm stuck with until I figure out how to help them move on, and this time is no different. Absurd thoughts just keep popping into my head, making me feel unusually dizzy and abnormal.  
  
Go figure.  
  
"So", I said abruptly, eyes flashing over to the girl. "What's the story?"  
  
She eyed me carefully before replying. "What story?"  
  
"How you died, how old you were when you died, how long you have been stuck here, the sorts. And who your parents were." I added.  
  
The girl must find something absolutely fascinating about my face, seeing she just stared at me for a while, eyebrows furrowed in a thoughtful expression.  
  
I tapped my foot impatiently, waiting for an answer. At last she smiled sweetly at me, and asked, "What does it matter who my parents were?"  
  
Something about her is way off, I decided. She doesn't seem upset at all that she no longer has a heartbeat, nor does she look like someone who grew up not having a clue who her father was. Well, I more or less grew up minus a dad, and I turned out okay. I think. But hello, I wasn't born in the 19th century. And at least I got to see him for a while after he died. But not this girl. She probably had it tough, not getting the kind of love only a father can provide. And doing chores only the men in the family were accustomed to do. That is, unless her mother remarried. Which I sincerely hope she did, because that'd have definitely been best for both her daughter and herself. I, of all people, should know how it feels to lose Jesse.  
  
But on the other hand, the girl must have been in this world for at least 50 years or so. She should have had lots of time to rethink everything about her life when she had one. And realize that all that have happened, happened for a reason.  
  
I sighed. "I guess it doesn't really. I was just curious."  
  
"Oh that's fine," She said, sounding sickeningly cheerful. "But in answer to your previous questions, I drowned, I was 17, and I have been stuck in this world for quite a while. Really, more than a century."  
  
Well. That's something to consider. A seventeen years old girl drowning? The world is so not fair.  
  
Biting my lip, I grimaced and said in a softer tone, "I'm sorry. Seventeen is a really young age to die."  
  
For a second, I thought I caught the sight of her clear, bright eyes flashing with anger. But after a blink, she was all Ms. Sunshine again. Yet I doubt I'd imagined that quick spark of fire. Perhaps she didn't have enough time. Perhaps she is still very bitter that she died not knowing the truth of her father. Her mother wouldn't have told her, would she?  
  
"Nah," She shrugged, still smiling. "I got most out of my life before that. It was a relief, actually, that I didn't have to go through the hardship of everyday trials anymore since that day."  
  
I knew it.  
  
But I didn't know what to say to her comment. Bowing my head low, I shuffled my feet around a little, buying time. After a few moments, the girl spoke again, as if she wasn't even expecting an answer.  
  
"I was just going to the creek with my friends and sisters. We were only there to cool off and swim around a bit, to wash off all the dirt from working all day. Planting the fields, drawing water from wells, irrigating the crops, gathering woods for a fire to cook dinner, mucking out stalls, and such. That day we even had to finish building a new fence for the pigs. Why, we even went hunting for game before we headed for the creek. Meat was running low, and I thought it'd be fun. My mother was very sick, my father had already passed away, and we were pretty desperate to provide meat to my mother in any possible means. I was pretty skilled at archery, and my sister Tess was perfect with a single dagger. She came along with me just in case we were faced with a predicament of whether to cut whatever we killed up or just drag it home. We only ended up with two rabbits, though. But it was better than nothing. It also felt good to do something that no one would dare to think of a girl doing, and out there in the woods all by ourselves with a sense of peace only nature could provide felt like heaven. Even if I felt somewhat guilty about being the one to end two hare's life, I knew it had to be done. I was trained to be tough, not letting anything get in my way of any goal. Sometimes it made me feel like a cold and cruel person, but even that can come in handy at times. Anyway, after that, we were both exhausted and needed a bath. We rounded up the rest of our sisters and some of our friends and went to the little creek not too far away. After awhile the others were done and they said they were tired and wanted to leave. I wasn't ready, since I wanted to soak some more, so I just told to go ahead. After they left, I swam for a long time, not caring that it was already pitch dark. While I went under for a few minutes, I must have sunk deeper than I realized because suddenly I felt my right leg caught up in a web of seaweed or something like that. I couldn't pull free, I couldn't float up, I couldn't get enough oxygen, I couldn't breathe. Soon, I felt myself slipping away, and the last thing I remember feeling before I gave in to darkness completely is relief. End of story."  
  
I stared at her, her crooked smile, lighting her face with a bitter sadness that I didn't have the time to contemplate. Her words ran through my head, screaming for understanding. Building fences, poaching, archery, daggers, game, a small creek, seaweed, slipping away, RELIEF. It all jumbled up inside my head, making perfect sense, yet I have trouble processing it all at the same time. Confusion and compassion both settled in at once, and the full impact of everything made me entirely speechless. Instead, I just stood there, hoping words wasn't what she was expecting.  
  
Puck, positioned right to my left, let out a huge exhales of breath and then whistled. It seems he couldn't find the right words to express his reaction to the revelation either. But no matter. Nothing said would ever be enough.  
  
Well, there is also that single possibility that she's lying. I mean, it's certainly very hard for me to believe that someone like her would just go poaching. They actually still do that in the 19th century? And girls would just kill innocent animals? And her sister actually agreed? What the hell. Why not just slaughter one of the pigs they were building the fence for? And her drowning incident lacks detail, not that I'm saying only descriptions make an event true. It's just... there's something really wrong with everything she just said.  
  
But whatever.  
  
Right now, by how she's gazing out the window with a total remorse expression, I'll have no choice but to believe her.  
  
After a few minutes of silence, the girl turned her unbelievably sparkling eyes on me, and I felt the full force of the fact that her appearance was exactly like Jesse. Knowing this wasn't the time to be feeling sorry for myself, I gave a nod of my head to show her that I understood. I understood her tribulations of every day life, difficult as they may all be. I understood why she had to go through all that, why she was left with no choice but to do the obvious, no matter how much she didn't want to. I understood her emotions as she glided through that last day in her life, and her final feeling of satisfaction. I understood it all, even though I feel as if I'm not supposed to.  
  
Well, I'm not. How could I get all she was saying? How could I comprehend every word that flowed out of her mouth? I never lived her life, I never experienced the life she led. So why is it that I, a mere sixteen years old normal –well, partly- girl, can relate to all she has said and feel as if I've been there?  
  
Nothing makes sense.  
  
Not anymore. Not even what Jesse has done. True, it hurts more than anyone will ever know, but I haven't heard the whole story yet. Hell, it could be even totally different than what I've been imagining.  
  
Not very possible, but still.  
  
I swallowed a huge lump that formed itself in my throat, and tried to smile at the girl. She took in my forced smile and smirked. Not in a mean way, just to let me know that I didn't have to do anything to make her feel better. Because it's pretty evident that she isn't someone who stands for pity or even sympathy.  
  
I had to respect her in that. But growing up without part of the whole that bred you does that to you, I guess. If I were Jesse, I would be proud. Thinking about Jesse again gave me that huge pang of pain, and I willed myself to take several deep breaths and blinked away my tears.  
  
Suddenly, as if reading my thoughts –well, actually he does-, Jesse himself materialized before me. I stared at him, trying to get into his brain to know what he was thinking right that moment. He looked back at me, confused.  
  
"Susannah?" He asked, sounding uncertain. "Are you all right? You look a little pale... and sick. Are you quite..."  
  
Jesse's words trailed off as I pointed to the direction of the windowsill, and I watched as his pupils widened in shock and his face drained of color. Well, there wasn't that much color on his face anyway, being a ghost and all, but you know what I mean.  
  
"Nombre de Dios," he muttered, gawking at the girl sitting there. "Santo Cielo." (A/n- thanks, Lolly and Clavel, for helping me with the Spanish.)  
  
Ghost girl just sat there still, but her face took on a kinder and more open expression. She gazed at Jesse, and if I'm not mistaken, I could swear I saw tears brimming in her eyes.  
  
"Jesse," she breathed, her voice coming out as gasps.  
  
Wait a minute. She's calling him Jesse? How could that be, unless...  
  
"Ria," Jesse choked out. "Cielo Santo."  
  
Um, is it possible that she's not his daughter after all? That she's just, you know, his SISTER? Well, only one way to find out.  
  
"So," I said carefully, and Jesse slowly and reluctantly turned his head to look at me. "Is that your daughter?"  
  
Jesse blinked. "Querida, what are you talking about? I never had any daughter. Ria is, well, my sister."  
  
Oh.  
  
My.  
  
_GOD._


	5. Chapter 5

A/n- This chapter was supposed to be a songfic about Ria, to help you get to know her better, I guess. But while I was in the middle of writing it the power got cut off and half of what I already wrote got deleted. I tried to write it again but it's not the same... stupid thunderstorm. Or um, stupid me for forgetting to save. But anyway, I've put the songfic on hold for now, since it's not coming along very well. It may or may not get posted in chapters later on, depending on how much inspiration likes me...  
  
So this is just a normal chapter. Thank you, guys, for your reviews! I appreciate every single one of them just as much. Keep them coming please! Reviews are my biggest inspiration.

  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Whacking Puck on the middle of his back to get him to move into the room more (which instantly promoted a very surprised hiss, which I ignored because I had way more important things to deal with right then than a bruised back belonging to someone named after one of Shakespeare's characters, and whom also own a personality that is just like the writer), I then closed my bedroom door softly, not wanting to be heard. I took several deep breaths before facing Jesse and his _sister_ again, trying to sort out all the thoughts that were jumbled up in my head.  
  
First things first. If the girl were really his sister –who of course she is, and Jesse even says so, since he'd have no reason to lie- then that means...  
  
She can give me the dirt on Jesse when he was alive.  
  
Well, yes. What did you expect me to say, that I had wrongly judged Jesse? That I jumped to conclusions too quickly, and should have thought everything out first? That just for thinking the obvious –or the worst- I was suddenly a dumb brunette? That because I even dared to dream of Jesse doing something like that, I don't trust him?  
  
You see, after the words, "She's, well, my sister" popped out of Jesse's mouth, I immediately knew that I had suffered through a very severe episode of a decidedly rare extravagantly paranoid attack of what sometimes known as plain lunatic madness but is truly what I'd like to call when a certain someone has been insecure for so long because she didn't have the chance to see her lover for a whole week and the stress of it all made her finally crack down and let insanity just take over her brain and during that, everything fries up and burns out her senses so she has no choice but to allow hypnosis to take place and steer her thinking boat into imagining what the evil little hypnosis dude want her to think and in result of that, total derangement is now what's within her soul so every ounce of her is a product of dementia, and we all know what happens when-  
  
The point is, I had a bad day, everything was getting on my nerves, and distress over the whole Jesse/Paul issue was blinding me from seeing the truth. Well, that's a small part of it. But at least that made more sense than my previous excuse...Not that I'm saying it's just an excuse. Because it's not. Joy over Jesse being here and meeting one of his five sisters is just exciting me too much that I can't even think straight.  
  
Yeah, right.  
  
"Your... sister?" I croaked, looking from Jesse to Ria, and back again.  
  
Jesse, still staring at the figure on the windowsill, nodded his head abruptly. "Ria is the oldest of all of all of them."  
  
I kind of already figured that. The real question right then is what the hell she's still doing here.  
  
Before I had even opened my mouth to ask, Jesse spoke. "Ria? Are you... what happened?"  
  
Jesse's voice was incredibly soft and gentle, and anyone with ears could hear the undeniable passion in his tone. Most of all, he was talking to his _sister_. I was almost jealous of her. Almost.  
  
Huh, I thought, how very touching. Jesse didn't see her for more than a hundred years, so of course he'd sound... as breathless as I had felt the very first time he'd kissed me. Besides, the girl is family. He's allowed to show, or speak, his real feelings toward her. But if it's just lovers, on the other hand, he has to bury his emotions deep inside his heart, too far away for me to reach.  
  
It's decidedly ironic, if you ask me. Family members are supposed to love each other, and lovers have to earn the affection. Right? Weren't siblings born to care for each other, and stick together through thick and thin? Well, unless a trust is broken because of some naïve mistake or accident or something. But everyone deserves a second chance, don't they? Especially family. Well, of course, sometimes you just can't help being wary of a family member, if you suspect them of wrong doings like poaching or committing suicide or prostituting or-  
  
Wait a minute. Prostituting? Where did that come from? Ria's story had certainly implied that she could have been a poacher, and she really did drown of her own free will, but nothing that I heard indicated prostituting. Then again, with a girl like Ria, anything is possible.  
  
Call it my instincts working for me, if you will. I do have a reason to be suspicious of her. Jesse's love for her seems almost vulnerable, as if he knows that where she's concerned, there is more than meets the eye. I, of course, I had already proven him right by thinking that she's his daughter. Insecurity is a not a pleasant feeling. If Jesse had shown me even half of the love he spoke in his voice to his sister, then I'd have been the happiest mediator in the world.  
  
Suddenly I realized that both Jesse and Ria were staring at me. Laughing nervously, I asked, "Um, what?"  
  
"I asked if you would mind if we, that is, Ria and I, went somewhere more private to talk things over, querida," Jesse said, his eyes busily searching my face. For what, I don't know.  
  
I blinked. "Sure. Go ahead. I don't mind."  
  
Jesse gave me a grateful yet questioning smile, then he and his sister dematerialized.  
  
Actually, I did mind. Why can't Ria say whatever it is she wants to say in here? What's wrong with just telling Jesse how she died in my presence? My first guess is that she's going to tell Jesse the truth, unlike the story she'd given me.  
  
But I wouldn't know that. And I should give her the benefit of doubt before I go and accuse her of lying. And prostituting, I added to myself.  
  
I stared at the blue forget-me-nots on the wall, and willed myself to say something to break the awkward silence between Puck and me. Trouble is, I had no idea how to say what I wanted without sounding like a total call girl myself.  
  
"Does she... look like a harlot to you?" I finally blurted out. That is so not what I was going to ask.  
  
Not only must it have seen totally random to Puck, but it would also give him false impressions of me. I mean, what kind of girls go around thinking just because her boyfriend shows more affection to his sister than to her that the girl must have done immoral things for money?  
  
Though of course that's not the only reason.  
  
Puck just looked at me. "You're prostituting your womanly talent, Susannah." Then he waved a goodbye and dematerialized.  
  
Haha. What a funny pun.  
  
NOT.  
  
  
  
The next day I woke up late, as usual. Pulling on the first thing within my reach –which, thankfully, is proper for school but not too nun-like-, I quickly washed my face and went downstairs to the kitchen.  
  
"You're late," Jake said blankly.  
  
"Yeah, yeah", I muttered, "I'm here now, so can we please get going?"  
  
Grabbing a bagel from a plate at the center of the table, I picked up my bag from its location beside the front door and gave Sleepy one last look before heading out to the car.  
  
The ride to school was loud- with Brad keep jabbering about the stupid pep rally-, and uneventful. It seems Jake has something defiant to say to every little comment Brad makes about the pointless event. Only David and me were quiet. I don't know about David, but I was deep in thought about a certain mysterious ghost girl.  
  
The morning went on quickly, and I half slept walked through it. Finally it was time for lunch. Just as I was walking toward CeeCee, Adam, and my usual table, I felt someone reach out and grab my arm, and dragged me behind the school building out of anyone's sight.  
  
My first thought was that it was Paul. He was back from that nice little institute and he has another scheme to destroy my love life and he planned to put it to action ASAP. He got pissed off that day when I went to visit because we were too rudely interrupted and now he wants me to pay. He never was that injured in the first place and he only went there to think of a foolproof strategy to seduce-  
  
"Stop resisting," the person hissed, "It's not like I'm going to murder you or something."  
  
God Almighty. That voice does not belong to Paul Slater. Paul had a deep, throaty voice and this person sounded like...  
  
"Ria?" I asked, staring at her. I was very aware of the strong hold she had on my arm. Somehow a strumpet grabbing me doesn't feel all that different from a normal girl-  
  
Suze, I chided myself. It's only a guess. It's just a stupid, naïve, immature, childish, intuitive, unreasoning GUESS. I have no reason to suspect her of being that. Well, except the way she talks, and the way she sits, and the way she holds herself, and the way she looks at people, and the way she's dressed. And I'd never have even noticed any of those things if the thought, "Oh wow, she might have been a prostitute" hadn't cross my mind.  
  
But she's Jesse's sister and I have to believe she wasn't that twisted until she gives me a real reason to think otherwise.  
  
"Yes," she grunted, pulling a very reluctant me to an isolated corner of the courtyard. "I have to talk to you."  
  
"Talk to me?" I said, confused. "You hauled me away from lunch just to talk to me? I happened to have been rather hungry, you know. And I needed to ask CeeCee a question about the chemistry homework. Why couldn't you just wait till after school? That-"  
  
"Whatever," She said, waving her left arm around in the air. "This is important. It's about Jesse."  
  
Now, that had my attention. Jesse? What about Jesse?  
  
"He told me that you two were romantically involved, and I need to tell you that..." Her voice trailed off, but she didn't seem to realize it. She gazed at the top of our school building as if brick walls as if she found then incredibly fascinating.  
  
What does she need to tell me? How many girlfriends Jesse had had when he was alive? How much he'd liked –or didn't like- every one of them? How before me, he'd never known what true love was? How when he found out about Maria, he was terribly broken hearted? Because who'd want to marry a hoop skirt chick like her? Not only is she a bitch, but she didn't have much of an education neither. How else could you explain the fact that she has terrible spelling and grammar?  
  
But no matter. Whatever the dirt is, I knew it'd be good.  
  
"What?" I inquired, "What do you need to tell me, Ria?"  
  
She spun around, looking a bit startled. "Oh, that. Stay away from him."  
  
Her voice suddenly became flat, and her eyes were shooting daggers at me. Everything about her turned stiff again. Her body, her expression, her posture. I didn't understand it.  
  
And 'stay away from him'? Wow. So much for her confiding in me about Jesse's teenage years. She probably wouldn't even know who Maria is, much less confirm that Jesse hated her.  
  
While I just stood there staring at her, she continued. "At first when Jesse told me that he's in love, Susannah, I didn't believe him. You don't grow up with someone and not know his opinions based on a matter as intolerant as love. He taught me to identify the delusion love produces. He showed me mirages love can create and how much it hurts both partners. He told me stories, stories about embellished fantasies, where the couple think they're meant for each other, but a gift of betrayal soon undo them both. He warned me to never fall for its trap. Of course, even though that's his real belief on the matter, he did court girls, he did have sweethearts. But it was all a game to him. I could see he made the lasses feel special, and I felt sorry for them that it was just a simple act. I made a vow then that I was my own person, and will stay that way. Love's illusion isn't worth it.  
  
"So you can imagine my surprise when Jesse told me that he has finally found out what all those love poems written by Byron and Robert Burns and Walter Scott means. Because he found the answer in you. Do you know what he said, Susannah? 'I managed to escape from that wasteland of absurd convictions, and I owe all that and much more to the encounter of the girl who changed my life from that day on...' If someone would have said that to him back when we were alive, he'd have thought the guy was crazy. Right now, he's the one who was saying it, and I can see it's sincere."  
  
Right then I noticed that we were standing under a giant oak tree. Its branches of leaves shaded us from the sun, and I felt unusually cool. The leaves haven't all completely fallen yet, and some were already starting to change color. From green to orange or even red. It's the same as change of heart, I realized. Time flies, and you never know what could be waiting around the corner. One minute you're sure everything about you –heart, soul, body, mind- are going to stay the same, and in the next moment you feel as if something about you is completely different than before. Good or bad, it depends on how you view the situation.  
  
"What's your point, Ria," I said at last, tired of those dubious eyes staring right into mine. "I can understand you're upset about Jesse's change of heart, but what can you do about it?"  
  
Ria shook her head, dismissing my question. "No. That's not it. I know love isn't a reality, because it doesn't exist. Jesse didn't fall for you, Susannah, he fell for the idea that someone could prove his conception wrong. So please, get over yourself. You didn't lead him toward any light. You led him away from reality. Right now you're both in some sort of improvident dreamland where everything is how you think it's supposed to be, since you made it all up. When someone finally wakes you up, you'll be sorry that you fell for love's trap."  
  
I snorted. I know it's rude, but I couldn't help it. What is this girl talking about? She sounded just like a cynic waiting to be proved wrong.  
  
I, however, did not find her next statement so funny. Not only did she sound totally serious, her expression was one of a lunatic who'd do anything to get what she want.  
  
"I'm telling you all this, Susannah, so you'd feel better about what I need to do. You see, I've been contemplating why I've been stuck in this world for so many decades, and now, seeing Jesse and hearing his story, I have finally come to a conclusion. It's not just on impulse, it's what feels like the right thing to do. There is only one possible explanation as to why Jesse and I both have been stranded here as ghosts. This was meant to happen. Jesse thought he'd fallen in love, and I'm here to announce otherwise."  
  
Um, hello, I am like really confused. I understood that she meant what she'd said, but can someone please clarify that?  
  
"Eh," I said intelligently, "What?"  
  
Ria sighed. "I'm telling you, Susannah, that Jesse belongs to ME, and he's coming with ME, and we're both MOVING ON."  
  
I think I choked on something just then. But it was probably only air.

  
  
A/n- I promise –or, eh, hope- that later chapters won't be so lame. Bear with me here. I had to get that part of the story out somehow. Excuse me if a stupid thunderstorm disturbed my thoughts. Ah, never mind, I'll just blame myself. But you'll review anyway, right? RIGHT? Okay, if you're reading this, STOP, DROP, and CLICK! The purple little button on the left, that is. Hm, at some places –like my local library- the button isn't purple, so maybe that's not the best way to say this... but you know what I mean...  
  
And I WILL respond to them. Just when I figure out what to say.  
  
P.S.- Sorry that Jesse hasn't shown up much so far. But this is partly his story, so your irresistible longing for his Spanish cuteness and old-fashioned stylish manner and droolworthy accent will soon be fulfilled!  
  
P.P.S.- All of the questions some of you stated will be answered in the story later on. Now go review!


	6. Chapter 6

A/n- Remember I said last chapter that the questions some of you stated will be answered in the story later on? Well, a few will actually be explained in the sequel. Like the poaching and prostituting thing. And no, I do not support either one of them. Being a vegan for you know why, I've always loved animals. And not only is poaching against the law, it's a totally cruel way to end an animal's life. Now, prostituting... humph. Definitely immoral and twisted. But I do think what they do for a living is very interesting, though. Well, interesting is probably not the best word since-  
  
Okie dokie artichokie, shutting up and moving on. As promised, here are the replies to you people's reviews. You can skip this part if you want, since it is definitely not necessary to read my rantings. Some things I may say are totally random also. And this is also in alphabetical order by username. Yes, I'm a perfectionist. Well, in certain things.  
  
**Astrid Zen**- Why, thank you! Your lovely reviews always brighten my day. Mind telling me who you are? Do you have an account at fanfiction also? I'd love to see your work. And I don't think the songfic will work out. I've decided to just do a chapter in Ria's POV.  
  
**Clavel**- Mwahahaha, not exactly creepy, but definitely possessive. Ria sure is a very unusual character. And your full name is Alejandra? So what do you go by short? Pretty obvious, but sometimes you never know...  
  
**DyInAzNb0i72**- You should really consider becoming a vegan. And DO NOT EAT AT KFC, which in reality stands for Kentucky's Fried Cruelty!  
  
**Esodes08**- Lol, actually the songfic did imply that Paul moved on. He's just kind of stuck on Suze physically. And sex? I'd think not that about Suze. Who could help suspecting that about Ria? I sure would have thought the same thing... but then again, that's just me.  
  
**Jess**- You actually paid attention to my random venting at the Author's Note! Well, thank you for listening. Haha. Anway, I can't assure you that Jesse is going to stay because that'll be like giving away the ending. Actually, that's not even what the real question is. The real question is how Jesse and Suze will end up together, don't you think?  
  
**Muzacgurl**- You are like the nicest person ever! You know that, right? Really considerate and NOT judgmental, and I think you're one of the few ones who doesn't hate Paul. You sure didn't throw firewood at him ::cough cough:: Ah, the only sane pillar in a sea of total wackos in the Jesse Fan Club. No offense, peeps. :D But as I always say, more times than not things are always not as they seem. And hurry up and update You Can't Have Everything. I've been waiting for two weeks! :D  
  
**Mystique Angelique**- Ah, I understand. I really do understand. Wait... what do I understand? Oh yeah... your need to show your friend how fast you can type??? Aha, yes, I do that too. Aren't we a bunch of wackos. Not.  
  
**Nice Hayley**- Eh, what can I say? Some siblings just love each other to death. (I hate puns, but use them all the same).  
  
**SweetestReject**- .......... Well, you were definitely not being scary. Rather......CUTE. Hehe.................  
  
**UnangelicHalo**- I PROMISE Jesse will show up soon. Points for you for waiting 'patiently', hehz.  
  
**Whitegirloutcast**- Well, Kel, you're not SUPPOSED to understand Ria. She's supposed to remain a mystery until... you hurry up and update After the Kiss and make stupid Claris leave with Jesse and Suze actually starts to fall for Paul when she's pretending to be in love with him but he finds out it's all an act and gets mad and figures out Suze isn't the one for him so he escapes to some deserted island where he finds the love of his life... ME! So we live happily ever after. The End.  
  
And to all, a big thank you. Here's the latest chapter. Please read and review.

  
  
Chapter 6  
  
"So, I think you should learn to drive."  
  
I was home after school later that day. Puck had popped up just as I was trying to get some homework done for once, therefore disturbing the nice studi-esh peace within my room. I didn't get too ticked, seeing I was secretly rather glad that someone showed up to avert my attention away from the element table. Except I, of course, had actually been thinking about something else entirely different than how to memorize compounds.  
  
Ria had disappeared as suddenly as she'd appeared. After her free lecture of "Jesse is MINE", she dematerialized before I had the chance to say anything, much less ask her if she's on crack. Okay, okay, I know she was totally serious about the whole thing, but what makes her so sure she has control over what Jesse chooses to do? What, is she going to threaten 'suicide' if Jesse refuses to move on with her? Or did she already get him to agree?  
  
That thought was awfully alarming, but I chased it away quickly. Even Ria had said Jesse admitted he'd found true love at last. And knowing Jesse, he would not just give something up that easily.  
  
Well, that something obviously is me, so I must be very seductive indeed. Yeah. And Romeo and Juliet ended happily ever after.  
  
Riiiiight.  
  
What's with her whole love equals illusion concept anyway? Has she never even heard of the infamous Romeo and Juliet? Even though the ending was definitely tragic and a tearjerker, it was pretty obvious the couple were in love. In LOVE. They were not in love with the idea that they were in love, like what she thinks is what Jesse is in love with. Um, hello, but last time I checked, Jesse has too much sense in him to go around loving something as impudent as the impression of true love. If that even makes sense.  
  
Well, it doesn't really matter, does it? Jesse knows the THING we have is positively love, not just a notion of it. We share a special bond only we can understand, and no one will ever be able to break and shatter it to pieces. Especially not a psycho sister who goes around using possessives on a guy that evidently belongs to someone else.  
  
I'm sorry, but her "Jesse is MINE" is really pissing me off, not to mention distracting me from concentrating on my chemistry homework.  
  
So yes, it was more or less a relief when Puck showed up. Even if the first thing out of his mouth was –no, no how was your day, or even a simple hello for me- "So, I think you should learn to drive."  
  
"I mean, every sixteen-year-old teenager in the state of California knows, so why shouldn't you learn?" He added hastily, ignoring the glare I was shooting him. "Besides, it'll allow you to be more independent, and easier for you to get from place to place."  
  
"I'm sorry," I said sarcastically. "But in case you haven't noticed, I kind of have my hands full right now with my boyfriend's sister who I just found out happens to be a total control freak and is intent on doing everything possible to drag Jesse with her when she moves on and-"  
  
"Yeah, I know," He interrupted. "I heard."  
  
"What?!" I screeched, whirling fully around to face him. Eavesdroppers are definitely one of the tops on my list of pet peeves. Not only is it terribly rude to listen in on other people's private conversations, it also seems sneaky. Which just gives me more reason to suspect Puck of being way more than he's letting on.  
  
Puck, however, didn't even bother to acknowledge my outburst. He just went right on with his speech on driving and blah blah blah. But I zoned out. So much for diverting my attention from Jesse and his sister.  
  
"So anyway, I was thinking we can go over to my place, and you can try out my car."  
  
I snapped my head up. "Excuse me? Why exactly would I want to do that?"  
  
Puck shrugged nonchalantly, "To distract you from obsessing over your boyfriend choosing his sister over you?"  
  
Damn. He had me there.  
  
"And no one'll know that you don't even have your learner's permit, much less a driver's license. What's the chance of a policeman suspecting you out of all the people on the road that you're unlicensed?"  
  
"Gee, I don't know," I said, giving him the full force of my glare. "Maybe it'll become clear as day when I crash into the wall?"  
  
Puck rolled his eyes. "I'll be sitting beside you, and I promise nothing too bad will happen. Don't you need a break from Ria's little- "  
  
And wouldn't the girl in question just show up right then.  
  
And blackmail me into going along with Puck's ridiculous scheme.

  
  
Puck's old neighborhood was breathtakingly beautiful. Even though most of the trees were already mostly bare, you can't help but wonder and admire how they must have looked like in the spring. Little white picket fences divided houses from right, left, front, and back. And the houses all looked very old-fashioned, but in very good form all the same. They were big and elegant, and I couldn't stop staring at each one we passed by. As we walked on, a lake came into view. The crystal-clear water was free of any litters, showing a perfect reflection of anything staring down into the exquisite lake. The ride I had to hitch to get here was worth it.  
  
"Which one was your house?" I asked curiously, after we've been walking for a couple of minutes.  
  
Puck didn't answer for awhile, but just kept on walking. I tagged along, allowing him to reminisce the good old times when he was alive. Suddenly I realized that I knew almost nothing about him, not even his real name. I was supposed to help him move on, and instead I've been too absorbed in my own problems lately. Guilt consumed me, and I made a silent vow that I'll try to get to know him better. Except that's kind of hard when he's always defying me.  
  
Finally we stopped, and Puck pointed at the front of a very large, very quaint habitation. I regarded it quizzically, looking at the front porch running the entire length of the house, and the small garage door at the back.  
  
"Well, it's sure different from the houses we had back in the 19th century," Ria commented from beside me.  
  
"Well, duh," I muttered, still mad at her for making me come here in the first place. When she showed up, somehow our conversation turned into an argument, and the argument turned into a fight, and the fight turned into a dare. Or a threat, of some sort. Whatever. I really didn't want to come. It's just this girl has some ability to twist your words around and make you seem like a loser if you don't do what she says.  
  
Puck beckoned us to follow him as he started walking toward the garage. I glanced around nervously, not wanting to be seen or heard. No one but me could see Puck, and if I'm caught I could get in big trouble for trespassing.  
  
"Don't worry," Puck called back, as he started to walk in the garage door. "No one's home at this hour. They're all either at work or some club activities. Both my parents aren't here neither."  
  
I felt a pang through my heart as I realized how much he must miss them. The 'rents, I mean. And vice versa. The guy didn't look like he was even in college yet. How did he die anyway? Great. I never bothered to ask that neither. This is so not like me. Ugh.  
  
I went in the garage, and stood beside his car, watching uncomfortably as he fished a key out of his jeans' pocket and unlocked the door. I didn't even have any clue what kind of car that is. Not that I cared.  
  
"Well," He said, looking at me. "Hop in the driver's seat. I can't drive, since when we get out there people'll just see a car rolling down the road on its own."  
  
Gulping, I nodded and slowly eased myself into the driver's seat. I buckled my seat belt as he did the same opposite me. Ria settled down in the back seat. She obviously has never been in a car before. But her questions about this and that really weren't all that annoying, since I was wondering the same things myself.  
  
I turned the key in the ignition, and waited for my next instructions. As unnerving as all this is, it at least took my mind off my earlier conversation with Ria.  
  
"So, what does this button do?" I asked.  
  
"It's the radio. Turn it off."  
  
"But I want to listen to it! This place is so quiet."  
  
"Just turn it off, all right? Music is too distracting."  
  
"Okay. Wait, what button was it?"  
  
Puck sighed, and gave me a look of overstated impatience. "Never mind. Now, set the car in reverse, and put your feet on that paddle over there." He pointed, and I obeyed.  
  
And we would have zoomed right into the picket fence of the house right in front of his if Puck hadn't switched the car to brake on time.  
  
"Jesus," he breathed, glaring at me. "NOT THAT FAST. Slowly, just put a LITTLE pressure on the paddle, all right?"  
  
I nodded, barely able to catch my breath myself, and listened to his directions as he told me how to turn into the road. Soon, we were driving down the road toward this little mountain place Puck told me were near this neighborhood. And I was going 5 miles per hour.  
  
"Uh, Suze," He asked, and I wondered where he'd heard anyone call me that before. "You can go a little faster than that."  
  
"Oh, right," I said, and stepped on the paddle a little harder.

The drove was uneven to say the least. I kept going off the road and Puck had to grab the wheel several times to prevent us from crashing into something. Add the fact that I was constantly stepping on the brake paddle to avoid hitting whatever it is in my way, and the speed I was going had no regularity. Every time the car suddenly lurched due to my poor driving skills, Ria would let out a loud shriek. Well, not exactly a shriek, but something sounding very alike it.  
  
Soon we arrived at the mountain track he was talking about. Trees surrounded the road from both sides, but the spaces in between was pretty narrow. All our windows were rolled down, so when I just let myself go after talking a huge breath, wind blew across my face, but it was a nice feeling.  
  
"You doing okay?" Puck called from over the rapid whooshing sound of the wind. "This was where I practice drove first. As far as I know, it's a safe place, and no one really drives here, so you don't have to worry about crashing into another car."   
  
Soon we arrived at the mountain track he was talking about. Trees surrounded the road from both sides, but the spaces in between was pretty narrow. All our windows were rolled down, so when I just let myself go after talking a huge breath, wind blew across my face, but it was a nice feeling.  
  
"You doing okay?" Puck called from over the rapid whooshing sound of the wind. "This was where I practice drove first."  
  
I could hear the grin in his voice, and I smiled. Even with Ria's constant mutterings from behind me, I tried my best to concentrate on doing this right.  
  
Before long I relaxed, and let myself to just enjoy the view. Everything was stunningly beautiful, the horizon, the occasional tall plants lining the path, and even the sky somehow looked bluer and clearer if you looked up from here. I let the wind cool me down, and for a moment I felt tempted to just close my eyes and feel the thrill of driving down so quickly and carelessly forever.  
  
Who cares that I could get arrested for driving without a license? Hell, I do things illegally all the time, with my chore for helping ghosts and all. Polices had to take me home in the middle of night more times than I can count. Either it's that or I'm found doing something outside the law. So one more time won't make that much difference.  
  
While I was contemplating how big of a trouble I could get into this time if caught, my attention was drifting away from the road. I didn't notice the curve, and before I could even begin to turn, we were lurching and swerving across the road. I think I almost fainted from horror and panic, but the voices of Puck's curses and Ria's screeches kept me awake. After like five seconds, the car tilted off the road into the wilderness that awaited us deep down at the edge of the track. We bumped, stopped, and slowly I could feel the car beginning to topple.  
  
And then we were completely plunging into the darkness of the woods.  
  
Before I passed out, I could still hear Ria's mumbles of, "we're going to die, we're going to die..."  
  
Which of course was pretty ironic, considering that she and Puck were already dead.

  
  
A/n- Yes, I'm sorry, I will get back to the topic of Jesse/Ria/Suze some time soon. But sheesh, that's not all there is to this story. :D  
  
Must I still tell you to click and review?


	7. Chapter 7

A/n- Thanks for all the reviews! They really, really, keep me going. You guys are the best. So anyway, this chapter is told in Ria's point of view. Explanations will come later. Right now I'll have some fun with writing this. :D

  
  
Chapter 7  
  
In my head, I heard the boisterous sound of tree leaves rustling as we collided head on with darkness. We kept rolling down, down, into a deep hollow hole of corruption that winded into wings around me tight. A voice filled with sorrow and dispair screamed deafeningly somewhere inside my soul. The forest is in chaos. Even the weak chirping of the birds suddenly became thunder in my ears. I squeezed my eyes shut, and willed everything to just please fade away...  
  
Abruptly, my fears were met with silence. Nevertheless, it's not the kind of calm, peaceful serenity that I often find myself slipping away in. No. This silence is dead, filled with visions unseen, voices unheard. Right now, the only thing I sense in this stillness in the presence of two others and myself shaking and shuddering in this _car_, as they call it. We have a reason to be afraid, for I have lived this before, and I know how it always ends.  
  
"Hey," a voice unexpectedly called from the blackness, seemingly somewhere nears the front of where I am. "You still back there?"  
  
I blinked, trying to sit up without alerting where alarm is definitely not necessary to cause. Whoever spoke sounded very much like the lad that was with Susannah and I when we went out. I don't know what his name is, since we have never been formally introduced. He looked modern, as in born and raised in this century, and I'm sure that he is a ghost too.  
  
"Yes," I called back, shivering slightly. "What exactly happened?"  
  
The boy laughed, but the sound contained no humor, only irony. I'd have thought that there was actually a touch of cruelty in it if not for the fact that I felt the same way right now. "Isn't it pretty obvious?" He spoke, his tone flat.  
  
Um, no, I thought to myself, that's why I'm asking. All I can really remember is that one minute we were cruising down the mountain track in a very daring manner, and the next we ended up here. Wherever here is. But I certainly do not like it, for not only does every ounce of my surroundings feel creepy, but it also provides me with a sense of dread, for some reason. And of course, there were those overpowering sounds I first heard.  
  
Deep inside myself, I know that they weren't just a figment of my imagination. True, I've unknowingly been into more dreamlands and fantasies than I can count, but I think I can still differentiate illusion from reality, thankyouverymuch. They were real, as in, they weren't made up by the likes of me, and they weren't there to just be a diversion from my unsettling existence. They were there for a reason this time. Was it a sign, maybe? Or was it a warning?  
  
"I'm sorry," I finally said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. "But I thought mostly people asked questions to things they don't know the answer to?"  
  
"What, did you dematerialize in the middle of the crash or something?" Fine. If the lad wanted to play this game, then go right ahead. "I mean, I believe it's very clear that we hit a curve and went off the road, therefore tumbling down into this place. But I guess some people just spend too much time in their own little worlds to pay attention to what's really happening, huh."  
  
Oh, so now he's accusing me of... of... of thinking too much? What is with modern lads theses days? I doubt that they are all so biting and insolent like this one here, since I've spend my time around several polite and nice ones. So what's his problem?  
  
That, of course, should have been quite evident if I gave it a second's thought, but at that time I was in no mood to contemplate the daft minds.  
  
"Okay," he said, after a long moment of silence, during which I just sat and stared out the window. "First things first. I don't think the girl here is doing very well. In fact," and here the lad turned around in his seat to glare at me, "she's unconscious."  
  
"Well," I snapped, not really believing him. If fragile me is still here, unharmed and whole, then that headstrong and stubborn excuse for a lass has got to be all right. "Then why don't you do something to wake her up?"  
  
The lad pretended to ignore me, and instead started digging around in a compartment positioned in front of him. After several seconds of shuffling papers and accessories around, he finally pulled out a cylinder shaped thing. After a click on the side, a stream of light appeared from one hole of whatever it is.  
  
"It's called a flashlight, in case you're wondering," he called. "And don't deny it. You were. I can tell that you wanted to know"  
  
"Oh gee," I sneered. "So now you're telepathic, wow. I'm utterly impressed that you were able to tell exactly what was going on inside my head just by the click of some switch to a 'flashlight'. Or did you confirm that from the movements of the trees outside? Or from total silence, perhaps? Or maybe you just think that you're so talented that you're capable of determining my- "  
  
"Jesus," he suddenly breathed, gazing down at the girl in the driver's seat of this car. I looked up and saw his eyebrows were furrowed together in amazement, shock, or who knows what else as he held the flashlight up to point at the lass' head.  
  
I remembered looking around when I first opened my eyes, and I know I saw Susannah's head lying against the wheel. The boy must have lifted it up to find out if she's all right. By his response to what he saw, apparently she's not.  
  
"What's wrong?" I asked curiously, peering over the top of the seat to try to get a glimpse of what got him so surprised. I have to admit I was somewhat disappointed to the sight, since I was expecting something way more damaged and disfigured. I was only awarded with the vision of a few bruises, and a deep gash on the forehead. But I do have to say the bruises were pretty severe. I didn't know that they could turn color so soon after the person's been injured. And even though the cut above her eyes looked rather serious, it was nothing compared to some of my sisters' wounds when we were alive.  
  
"Just get some clothes and wrap it around the wound," I said, shrugging. "It's no big deal. I've seen way worse."  
  
I can hear him seething even as he grabbed an old shirt from the seat beside mine. Geez, what did I say now? It was the truth. I watched as he ripped off some part of the garment and carefully wrapped it around Susannah's forehead. Tying a knot at the back, he at last trained his eyes –or eye, since one of them is covered by a flock of hair- on me, and spat out, "So what do you suggest we do now, Miss Priss? This girl here is in serious need of medical care, and we have no way of getting her to a hospital. Even if we manage to get her up to the road, we can't carry her anywhere without making it look like she's sleepwalking or being possessed by some evil spirit. Not that that's really important. But she needs to get help ASAP, and walking can take forever. There are sometimes cars that drive by the track this time of the night, and we COULD hitch a ride if they could see us or if Susannah here wakes up and have the strength to stick a thumb in the air. But that, of course, is highly unlikely, so what option do you see left for us to get Susannah to a hospital before it's too late?"  
  
I blinked rapidly several times, trying to stuff all he said into my head and process them at the same time. After awhile, I realized what he meant and I gasped. He's right. Susannah needs to have her wound treated as soon as possible. Who knows, she probably got some broken bones too. Oh my, I thought, as panic started to rise within me, really, what are we going to do? I didn't see it before, but Susannah isn't a ghost like us, so she must have suffered damages a lot more severe than us. And I don't think girls should just stay in a car after it's been crashed and left out in the woods. We definitely need to take her to see a doctor. Only, how?  
  
Jesse, I suddenly pictured. If only he were here to assist us. He would surely know what to do under stressful situations like this. He always does.  
  
As if summoned by my thought alone, Jesse himself then appeared right next to me. I shrieked in delight and threw my arms around him.  
  
"Ria?" Jesse asked, sounding confused. I drew back, feeling a little embarrassed. I don't usually show affection like this, but this time instinct had totally taken over. "What's the matter?"  
  
"Oh Jesse," I breathed, holding onto his hands tight. "There's been an accident. You see, Susannah was driving, but we rolled own here somehow, and now she's unconscious."  
  
In the front seat, the lad muttered, "Nice explanation, Einstein. Descriptive much?" But that was soon drowned out by the voice of Jesse's shout.  
  
"WHAT?! Nombre de Dios, Ria, why didn't you just tell me from the beginning?"  
  
And with that, he quickly dropped my hands, and squeezed into the front and cradled Susannah's head on his lap. I saw him gingerly caress her face, all the while murmuring sweet nothings in her ear. Good God, for a second there I forgot that they were romantically involved.  
  
Which isn't that surprising, considering that I didn't believe any of that nonsense Jesse told me for a second. However, while he's still in his little Romeo/Juliet fantasy, I better just make things easier for him. I'll be nice and let reality smack him in the face later, after his so-called 'Querida' is in some place where she can get treated. Perhaps then he'll have regained his senses.  
  
"Um, Jesse," I drawled, "Any suggestions on how we can get her to a hospital?"  
  
Jesse, looking a bit startled, fixed his amazingly dark eyes on me. For a moment, I took in his thoroughly straight nose, sweetly and fully shaped lips, creamy skin, and that scar on his eyebrow, and I could clearly see how Susannah had fallen in love with him. Or so she says, anyway.  
  
But my brother truly is an image of perfection. And the only one that deserves to be with him is me, and me only. No one else was allowed, and no one will be allowed, in our life. I smiled discreetly in satisfaction, knowing that this time I will win yet again.  
  
"Well," Jesse said uncertainly. "Why was Susannah driving in the first place? And whose car is this?"  
  
"It's mine," the lad jumped in. "And I think we should just get going before someone finds Susannah here unconscious in a 'stolen' car."  
  
"Get going?" Jesse murmured, still stroking Susannah's head. First her cheek, then her hair, then nose, then her-  
  
All right, calm down, Ria, I told myself as I watched them. Jesse eyebrows were drawn together in deep thought, and I know he was worried but didn't know what to do like us.  
  
"J... Jesse?" I heard a voice suddenly. Looking away from Jesse to the lass on his lap, I saw that she had awakened. A miracle. My brother's voice and touch has the ability to wake someone up from the dead? Well, not the dead, but something close to it. Nevertheless, she seemed and sounded very, very weak, and it was taking all her strength just to lift her head up to gaze into Jesse's eyes.  
  
"Querida!" My brother gasped. "Are you all right?"  
  
Before Susannah even had a chance to open her mouth, the lad gushed on with a short explanation on what had happened. After he finished, Susannah only looked worse than she had before. "Yeah, I could understand that my head got cut. I have a huge headache."  
  
"Your forehead? Nombre de Dios, you really need medical care!" Jesse cried.  
  
"Um, Jesse," I said, feeling a little annoyed. "We can see the obvious."  
  
"Really," the lad muttered, "you couldn't a minute ago."  
  
Ignoring him, I turned back to Jesse and smiled. "Any suggestions?"  
  
Holding the frail girl in his arms, Jesse began to mumble, "Well, I can dematerialize and get Father Dom, but I don't even know where we are, so I can't lead him here. Beside, that'll take too long and we only have a limited amount of time. The only other option I see here is to carry her up to the road and then try to have someone driving a car passing by to take us."  
  
"Jesse?" Susannah spoke, her voice still sounding weak as ever. "How did you get here?"  
  
"Shh," Jesse shushed her, putting a finger to her lips. "That's not important right now, Querida. You need to save your strength. Please don't close your eyes. You'll make it through, I'm here with you."  
  
Then, to us, he said, "I'll carry her up to the road. You two lead the way."  
  
Moaning and groaning, the lad and I climbed out of the car first. Once out, I shivered again, suddenly aware of my surroundings. Tree branches cracked as I stepped on them, and somehow the hooting of owls seemed creepy and a little scary even. The path was rugged and bumpy, and several times I had to grab onto the nearest tree to prevent myself from falling down into who knows where. We were all quiet as we walked up, neither one of us saying anything that would jinx us from finding the road. I was pretty sure that no one knew where we were going, but there didn't seem to be anything else we can do except keep walking. A few times Susannah would give a soft cry of distress, and Jesse would soothe her, and she'd be silent again.  
  
Finally, my feet touched the mountain track. Light spilled from the lamps on the side of the road, illuminating everything around us. I glanced back at Jesse questioningly, my eyes asking him what to do now. I took his nod as a sign to just continue walking until we see a car driving by that could help.  
  
After a few minutes, the headlights of a car came into view. I heard the lad behind me breathe a sigh of relief, but Susannah just moaned again. Trying to stand upright so it wouldn't look like she was leaning against thin air, she stuck out her left thumb in the air. The car slowly stopped as it neared us, and the driver rolled down his window and looked out.  
  
"You need a ride?" A voice called, sounding a bit drunk.  
  
Seeing Susannah's nod, the driver gestured for her to get in. Jesse tried to help her without drawing attention to himself. When she was safely seated and buckled in the front seat, Jesse, the lad, and I dematerialized and found ourselves squeezed in the back seat of the car.  
  
"Where to?" The male driver said. I took a good look at him as he turned toward Susannah. He seemed to be about Jesse's age, maybe a little older. He had straight black hair, and by the greasy looks of it, he probably hadn't washed it in a long time. By the lamp, I could make out some absurd paintings on his bare arms. His nose seemed rather crooked, and a ring hung from it. His face was clotted with acne, depriving him of any good features he might have had.  
  
"The nearest hospital," Susannah said quietly in answer to his question.  
  
The lad nodded and began driving. I stared out the window at the blurry images as we flew past them. I didn't recognize anything, not that I expected to. But unfamiliar surroundings do not suit me, even if I've found myself in them half my life. Some times, like now, I wish with all my heart that I could belong, just in one place where I can truly call home. That was my dream when I was alive. What about now? Now not only do I need my big brother, I also need...  
  
All of a sudden, I realized that we were driving within some thick, crowded grassland. Even though I am not aware of this place, I know that we are not close to any hospital. Where is this person taking us? Can he not see that Susannah is hurt and needs help? We have no time to waste!  
  
Just as I was starting to ask Jesse if he knew what exactly is going on, the driver of the car cut off the engine. Everything turned quiet and almost eerie then, and the unexpected silence had Susannah jerking up from her seat. Blinking several times, she turned her head toward the lad. The movement must have pained her somewhere, for she gave a small yelp. Jesse immediately tried to help her, but I held him back.  
  
"All right," the lad sitting in the driver's seat said, grinning evilly at Susannah. "We can do this fast, or we can take it slow."  
  
I had no idea what he was talking about, but apparently Susannah did. She looked positively sick, and the glare she was shooting him would be enough to make any other person drop dead. Wow, she impresses me. Any other girl that has a deep cut on the forehead and minutes ago has been in a car crash would probably still be unconscious right now. Not only did she manage to keep awake, but also she's still capable of defending herself. Even if it doesn't work.  
  
"Look, mister," she said slowly, trying to sound menacing even through her pain. "I happen to be in serious need for medical care right now, and I really don't have time to be screwing around like this. I will repay you after. Just not in this way."  
  
The lad, however, just simply smirked. "If you gravely need to be in a hospital, then why don't we hurry and get it over with?"  
  
Susannah looked like she wanted to slap him. Well, that's the understatement of the year.  
  
"Um," I whispered, "What is he talking about?"  
  
Jesse seemed as confused as I felt, but the other ghost lad in the car had an expression of torment mixed sympathy on his face. He glanced over at me and grunted something that sounded like, "you don't want to know."  
  
"Actually, I do," I hissed back. "In case you haven't noticed, we need to help Susannah."  
  
There was silence in the car for a few moments, during which the driver and Susannah just stared at each other. The driver appeared amused, whereas Susannah infuriated and desperate. Jesse just watched their staring match, having no clue what in the world is going on.  
  
"Sex," the ghost lad sitting beside me finally muttered. "He wants Susannah to make love with him, or he's not taking her anywhere."  
  
After the last word was out from his mouth, I felt my stomach positively drop to the bottom of my feet. Sure, I felt bad for her, but this is really about me, isn't it. No matter how hard I run, how far I try to get away, my past will always catch up with me. And this time, once again, it has.

----------------------------------------  
  
_Shadows enfold, shadows embrace_

_Through a dark veil, behind the face_

_Hides a deep void, a sleeping cocoon_

_Butterfly waits, freedom come soon_

_Will you accept me? Will you believe? _

_Will you cast stones at what you perceive?_

_I need you to love me, a sleeping cocoon_

_Unfolding my wings, freedom come soon_

  
  
A/n- Ria has several different personalities, and they can change faster than lightning. You can call it multi-personality, I guess. Anyway, I do not own that poem at the end. It was taken from the book Backstage Pass by Gaby Triana. It fits perfectly, especially that line "Will you cast stones at what you perceive?" If you've read the book, you'll know whom it's referring to. But I'd like to hear some of you guys' guess.  
  
Don't forget to REVIEW!


	8. Chapter 8

A/n- Okay... by lack of response I'll assume that no one knew whom the poem was referring to... HELLO? Doesn't anyone here watch the History Channel? Jesus. Jesus Christ! The "Will you cast stones at what you perceive" line refers to that prostitute in the Bible, when everyone wants to stone her. But Jesus makes them all feel guilty.  
  
Oh, actually, I didn't even know until I read the book, so who am I to talk. **::major eye roll::  
**  
Thanks to those who reviewed! You guys that asked questions, (i.e. is there a 'thing' between Ria and Puck; Does Ria wants to be involved with Jesse romantically. Etc.) just keep reading. You'll find out soon enough.  
  
By the way, we're back to Suze's point of view.

  
  
Chapter 8  
  
Upon hearing what Puck had to say about what exactly this drunk driver wanted with me, I didn't dare risk a glance Jesse's way. I could almost read his thoughts, and feel his emotions right now. I mean, you instinctively react in a deranged manner overpowered by anger when you hear that someone wants to do the dirty with your girlfriend –bear with me here- , especially when SHE doesn't want to go along with it. I've already been taken advantage of by the ever so famous Paul Slater, and I think I have enough dignity to not get played again.  
  
So yes, I was going to do everything humanly possible to not get screwed, even with a head-splitting headache and severe bruises on my face that I could definitely feel. Plus some broken –or at least very badly damaged- bones that are totally weighing me down.  
  
Then there's the fact that I have absolutely NO intention of losing my virginity right now, much less to someone that I don't even know. The only one that I'm even remotely interested in happens to be a). Dead b).Cares too much about morals to even think about second base, much less going all the way.  
  
And, really, you know what? This guy is really pissing me off. Oh, like I'm going to go along with his little scheme just because I happen to be hurt and really isn't in any position to defend myself. At least that's how he views it, anyway. Modern guys' egos are really too big for their own good. Think of us girls as trashy Kleenex they can go throw like a kid with a cold, don't they? And because of what? That it's common knowledge that the male species are just supposed to be smarter and stronger and all the other crap than the opposite sex? Or are they all just so pompous and overconfident that every single one of them believes the universe wasn't complete until they were born? Are females supposed to look up to them because of their superficial nature?  
  
I think not.  
  
Maybe all the other girls this certain drunk has encountered let him walk all over her, but not with me. It's time he learned a lesson about just which exactly the 'weaker' sex are.  
  
He certainly deserves a reality check, especially now that he has officially humiliated me and this present century in front of my boyfriend.  
  
And you know, I would have given him a good ass whipping. If I wasn't in a car crash moments ago, that is. It's not exactly easy to kick butt when you feel like shit all over.  
  
Seconds later, it seemed I didn't have to worry about that, because the car started shaking from Jesse's ghost power. The guy looked around, startled and alert, while I watched Puck trying to hold Jesse back from attacking the guy. Jesse's expression of such anger and hatred even had me surprised. Puck looked like he was having a really hard time with refraining Jesse from breaking the guy's neck. Ria's expression was simply blank as she stared out the window, probably oblivious to all that is going on. Hopefully she's pondering over whether it's fair to make Jesse move on with her after all.  
  
Nah. Knowing her, or lack of knowing her, most likely she's too sure of herself to even give that option a second thought.  
  
Anyway, the driver then turned toward me, and was like, "What the hell is going on? Is it just me or do you sense the car shaking?"  
  
I shot Jesse a warning glance. He must have seen the plea in my eyes because the car became still again. I mean, yeah, his help would be great, but this time I'd really like to get out of this predicament on my own. Well, maybe a little assistance would be fine, but please, I can handle the majority by myself. At least, I certainly hoped so, seeing I don't even have any sort of plan.  
  
"Now, where were we?" The drunk said, a gleam in his eye.  
  
Gulping down my trepidation, I smiled and pretended to look unsure. "Yeah. Where exactly ARE we?"  
  
Then I made a show of looking around and out the window. This place definitely does not seem familiar. All I can really see are grass from both sides and the moon in the black night sky. Even if I try to escape, I'll just end up nowhere in a strange land where nothing feels right. I have no clue where the nearest hospital is, and frankly, right now I think I can take this before I need to be wheeled into an emergency room.  
  
I was expecting an answer to my question, but drunkie just grabbed me, totally catching me off my guard. He tried to smash his mouth into mine, but I slapped him away. Giving him a huge push toward the other side, I frantically yanked on my door handle to try to get out. Directions or no directions, I was not going to stay in there and get raped.  
  
Except the door would not budge.  
  
After I heard the sound of a click and the low rumbles of the guy's laugh, I realized that I was trapped in here in one of those stupid modern cars where the driver controls the automatic locks. Which in reality just gives them the advantage to create an imperviously sealed love nest.  
  
Well, lookie lookie. For someone who looks he could be voted most hideously looking guy of the year, he sure is rich. Or at least his car is.  
  
"You're stuck in here with me," drunkie drawled, looking undecidedly amused. "If you really need to be in a hospital, then let's not waste any time, shall we?"  
  
I could hear angry mumbling from the back seat, but I ignored them. I should, and I could, handle this on my own. Licking my lips nervously, I looked the guy straight in the eye and said the first thing that came to mind: "You know, I came from New York, where I had the fortune of going to school with the daughters of supermodels and actresses. Everyday there is some stressed out overachiever or beauty queen that needs constant assurance about either their body image or lack of one. I've witnessed more barf contests in the girls' bathroom than I can count. You don't spend at least twice a week watching people speed vomit and don't learn how to do it yourself. And that means," Here I stuck my finger down my throat, "I can make myself throw up faster than you can unlock this door."  
  
Yes I know, really, really lame lie. But hey, if that does the trick, who cares how fake it sounded? And the truth is, I couldn't make myself barf even if my life depended on it. And ironically, right now it sort of did.  
  
Drunkie really did started to look a little nervous. He glared at me and cracked, "You wouldn't dare."  
  
I smiled at him big, showing all my white teeth. Ouch. Ugh, even a simple act like a smile can activate the many bruises on my face. "Try me. But we wouldn't want to have pukings all over this brand spanking new leather seats, would we?"  
  
I slurred my words purposely, as a sign that he better hurry up and decide whether it's really worth it. Of course it's not. He just wants to stick around and wait to find out if what I said were really true. Sometimes boys can be so daft.  
  
I tried to hurry him up by making some random gurgling noises and stuck my finger further down. The guy backed away, his expression one of dread and panic. Feeling somewhat giddy that he fell for my trap, I slurred again. "Now, come on, let me go before I throw-"  
  
But I never got to finish my sentence. Because just then, a sense of overpowering nausea came over me, and my stomach felt as if it were going to be turned inside out. I felt unusually dizzy as everything I ate that day spilled out from me onto... the guy's face, shirt, pants, shoes, etc. Yeah. And I'm proud to say, not a drop landed on the car.  
  
Still gasping for breath after I was done emptying my stomach, I saw drunkie just sitting there, frozen as a statue, staring down at himself with a look of total disbelief on his face. I took advantage of this moment to reached over to his side to unlock and throw open his door. Then, gathering all my strength, I pushed him out. Well, with some help from Jesse, that is. He gave the guy a good jab in the neck, sending him flying out and howling in pain. Without wasting any time, I slammed the door close and turned the key in the ignition that he had left there, and switched the car to drive. I stepped on the gas paddle all the way down and soon we were on our way driving forward to who knows where. I didn't really care then. All I wanted was to get away from this place, and get directions to the nearest hospital.  
  
I didn't think I could handle this any longer. I must have taken more damage than I thought, or I wouldn't have just puked like that. But now that I did, I can feel myself beginning to try to hold on for a little more time, until I can get help. I feel light-headed and weary, and the gash on my forehead is really starting to torment me now that I've used up almost all of my energy.  
  
"Querida," Jesse said, appearing next to me on the seat. "How do you feel?"  
  
"I'm fine, Jesse," I assured him, glancing over at him with a wan smile. "Don't worry. I'll be okay. We'll get through this."  
  
"I'm not sure about that," I heard Puck say quietly from behind me. "You left the car there in the woods, and someone will find it sooner or later. Polices will investigate, and it'll become pretty obvious that it was stolen. And this car you're driving. They'll conclude that it too was stolen. No matter how you look at it, you're going to be in trouble with the law, Suze. I'm sorry."  
  
I just stared straight ahead. I actually do realize that this time I'm not going to get off so easily. I have no license, and I've driven two cars that weren't mine. What could I tell them? That a ghost let me borrow his car and soon it turned into a gigantic nightmare? That I'd pushed a guy out of his own car because he threatened to rape me? Somehow, I have a feeling no one would believe any of that. I mean, hey, every sixteen-year-old make up lies to get out of trouble, right?  
  
Uh, that'll be a NO.  
  
Anyway, I have Father Dominic to bail me out. I just have to speak with him before the police come and interrogate me. He'll think of some believable story. He always does.  
  
Even though that thought was comforting, I couldn't get that sense of dread from out of my mind. It feels as if I've missed something... something that may prove to be essential in the future.  
  
Well, whatever. Right now I just have to concentrate on getting to the hospital in one piece.  
  
"Susannah, you might want to slow down," Jesse said gently, lying a soft hand on my arm. The feel of his touch calmed me a bit. I took a big gulp of breath, and suddenly the situation didn't seem as hopeless as before. I was getting ready to slow down when unexpected the car started to collapse downward, as if there were a giant ditch in the middle of the road.  
  
Then we were going, down, down, down. Why does this feel so familiar? Oh yeah, because it happened before... today, in fact. Except this time, instead of crashing into the darkness of the woods, we were falling into a steep slope in the middle of nowhere. As we bumped toward the bottom, I fought to keep awake for a while longer. Just as I thought I couldn't take it anymore, I felt Jesse's strong and comforting arms closing in around me, and I didn't give up. Finally, we hit rock bottom and once again silence took over my surroundings.  
  
"This...this isn't happening," I heard Ria falter from the back seat, her voice sounding fragile and tiresome. Puck coughed several times, and even that sounded resigned.  
  
"Don't leave me, Jesse," I whispered, drawing the warmth of his body into my own. "Please... don't go..."  
  
"Querida," Jesse whispered back. His grip on me tightened, as I could hear the agony in his own voice. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll stay with you through all this."  
  
I smiled weakly, and knew there wasn't that much time left. Only one option remained, and if I don't want to be pecked by vultures, I'm going to have to use it.  
  
Gripping his shoulders with my bruised hands, I gathered the last of my strength and gasped out, "Get... Paul."  
  
Then, I'm sorry to say, I closed my eyes and gave in to a battle that I was not meant to win.

  
  
A/n- I know this story seems like it's in the middle of nowhere right now, but I will tie the loose ends together soon. Until then, please continue reading and reviewing!

((By the way... if you were hoping that Jesse would come through and save the day... then all I have to say is... KEEP HOPING. Oh, and reviewing.))


	9. Chapter 9

**Esodes08**- Mwahahaha... sure, Paul would be a big help. Tell that to Jesse, though. But 'Puck' does know who Paul is. Remember the hospital scene in chapter two? Anyway, hey, who knows what they do in old times... I wouldn't be surprised if siblings really married...  
  
**Icy star angel**- Okay, I read it, I thought about it... I understood it! It was way creative too. In this case, I guess the story does relate to milkshakes, huh. Any other... theories you might want to share?  
  
**Muzacgurl**- Yes, I agree. Suze definitely cannot drive to save her life in this case.  
  
**Nice Haley**- See, Hayley, bulimia DOES have its advantages! Rare, but who cares. Tell that to someone who's bulimic.  
  
**sapphire hanyou**- Hey, I'm updating... I'm updating... THANK YOU, btw.  
  
**Sweet-angel-star**- I was getting scared there with your whole change of heart thing... but I gotta thank Kaitie for bringing you back to Earth!  
  
**SweetestReject**- I THOUGHT YOU LIKED PAUL!! Well, anyway, sorry but eh, I doubt that you'll be unconfused in this chapter. Ah, just keep reading...  
  
**UnangelicHalo**- Aww, he sure is. A sweetie, I mean. And I thought everyone was capable of emotion... except maybe a selective few...  
  
**Zanny01**- Yeah, I was getting tired of the whole guy-comes-along-and-saves- the-day thing too. Who says every girl has to have a knight in shinning armor? What's wrong with saving themselves?!?  
  
A/n- Thank you all so much for your reviews. I really, really, appreciate every one of them. Keep them coming!

  
  
Chapter 9  
  
**Jesse's POV  
**  
_Get Paul...  
_  
Susannah's last words to me before she fell unconscious once again rang and rang in my head, leaving me in a state of complete and utter shock. We are all in a very delicate situation right now, and she wants me to get our most hated foe for help? What could she have been thinking? How could a satanic rogue such as Slater himself assist us in any way? Either Susannah really did hit her head hard, or she has been keeping some secrets about Slater from me ever since he came back.  
  
It's hard to tell with Querida sometimes. Usually I can see her soul within her eyes, but at times when she is most... difficult, she may come off as unpredictable and of course, everything becomes clouded, foggy. Perhaps even distant.  
  
"Jesse," I heard a voice coming from behind me, snapping me out my reverie. "Aren't you going to go get Paul, whoever that is?"  
  
"Is that the guy in the hospital?" The lad sitting beside Ria spoke before I even had the chance to open my mouth. "Why would Suze want some sick psycho for help?"  
  
My thoughts exactly.  
  
While Ria gave me a quizzical look, I just sat there, still cradling Susannah in my arms. After a few moments of pondering over her request, I finally decided to try another option first. You have to make sure every road is blocked before you go knocking on the door of your mortal enemy.  
  
"Ria, come here." I whispered. She obeyed, and I handed Susannah over to her without a word. I closed my eyes and hoped that no harm would come to her while I'm gone.  
  
When I opened my eyes, I was standing in a room I don't believe I've ever been in before. The walls were uniquely decorated, but the first thing that caught my eye was Father Dom sitting on an overstuffed chair positioned in front of a mahogany desk. I took a deep gulp of breath and he looked up from a book he had been absorbed in. His expression was startled when he saw it was I.  
  
"Jesse?" Father Dom said uncertainly, and got up from the chair. "Why the grim face? What has happened?"  
  
That's when I realized that I, myself, more or less didn't even know. I had heard someone calling me and the next thing I knew, I was there in that car with Ria and the other boy. And Susannah. I was immensely shocked when I heard the short version of what had happened. Back in the days when I was alive, you do not go around toying with things that you do not know how to work. People sure have changed since the 19th century.  
  
"Well," I began. "Susannah was in this car crash. The car belonged to a ghost she was helping, I suppose. Somehow the car tipped over while she was driving down a mountain track and she fell unconscious. I arrived to help and carry her up to the road. She was awake by that time, but barely. We caught a ride to transport Susannah to the nearest hospital, except the lad driving it only wanted something, eh, intimate from Susannah." Here I paused and thought angrily back to what gone on then. "But Susannah, quick thinker she is, vomited all over him and threw him out of the car. She started driving that car, only we ended up in a huge ditch, and right then she fell unconscious for the second time. I fear we may really need your help now, Father Dom."  
  
Father Dominic stared at me for a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. I glanced around nervously, hoping to avoid his vexatious scrutiny. I gaped at the bookshelves full of books. I paid more attention than needed to the paintings on the wall. I peered over his shoulder to see a neatly made bed in the corner. Finally, just as my eyes were running out of things to watch, Father Dom spoke.  
  
"Where is she?"  
  
Another question to which I didn't know the exact answer. I stood there for some time, thinking of what to say. I didn't believe that Susannah was in any real danger. She was at a safe place, and Ria and the other boy would protect her if necessary. Susannah is tough, and a mere gash on the head could not have done her any real harm. However, I do know that even the strongest of all cannot stand that much long without proper medical care.  
  
"She's... I don't think she's anywhere close to here. Somewhere with a very low ditch. There shouldn't be that many places with that around here, shouldn't there?" I finally settled upon saying that, since any other answer may prove to be ignorant and useless.  
  
Father Dominic furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion and despair. "I think I remember one time when I..."  
  
"Yes?" I said, urging him to continue.  
  
"Did Susannah say anything before she passed out again, Jesse? Anything at all?" Suddenly the conversation was in another direction. But I guess I'll have to trust that Father Dom knows best in how to handle this.  
  
"She told me to 'Get Paul'. Except I didn't really understand that request. How could HE help Susannah? He is a mere mediator like her. So I came to you because I thought you would know what to do without bothering Slater."  
  
Father Dom's expression suddenly had a hint of sarcasm in it. "Well, how thoughtful of you to not want to bother him while he's in a hospital, Jesse. But if I remember clearly, you were the one who sent him there in the first place. I wouldn't have thought the idea of disturbing him while he's healing would worry you in the least."  
  
I blinked. "He's in the hospital? How could he still be in the hospital? It's been 4 days already. His wounds couldn't have been that severe."  
  
Father Dom regarded me disapprovingly. "The injuries you gave him 'in the heat of the moment' was more serious than you would perhaps like to think, Jesse. You really should learn to control your emotions better. Next time, you may truly have to pay for your inconsiderate actions."  
  
Great. Now we're talking about morals while Querida's life is at stake.  
  
"Father Dom," I said, keeping my impatience in cheek. "Slater was sexually harassing Quer- I mean, Susannah. What did you expect me to do, stand by and watch while he make up stories about them sleeping together?"  
  
He paled at my last words. I didn't think it was such a good idea to tell a priest something like that, true as it may be. "I mean, of course they didn't. Slater was just trying to provoke me." I added hastily  
  
"And it worked, didn't it? He most certainly managed to provoke you." The sarcasm was back. Somehow, I found it slightly amusing that an old priest like himself can actually manage to be sarcastic.  
  
"Well, what would YOU have done if the woman you're in love with is accused of sleeping with another man, the accuser being the man himself? Wouldn't you have tried to kill him also?" I asked, keeping my voice firm and solid.  
  
"Jesse! Your intention was killing him?" Father Dom gasped, ignoring my first question completely.  
  
"Father," I said gently, not wanting to waste anymore time on the subject of Paul Slater, of all people. "I think right now, we need to worry about Susannah's welfare, instead of that insolent bastard."  
  
Father shot me a look of warning on using bad language. Then he sighed and spoke. "Susannah asked you to get Paul, didn't she? Why don't you do that while I try to find the place and call the police and ambulance?"  
  
"But what's the point of needing Slater's help, Father," I said slowly, feigning annoyance. "If you have the situation under control?"  
  
"Please," He said, already starting to dial on the phone. "Grant Susannah's wishes."  
  
What was I supposed to say to that? And besides, I trust Susannah to make the best choice. Before I left, I sighed one last time and willed myself not to hit Slater the second I lay my eyes on him.  
  
  
  
**Ria's POV** _(If I had to write one more thing in Jesse's point of view, I would have screamed. I realized too late that I have absolutely zero ability to portray him properly.)_  
  
An uncomfortable silence settled within the car after Jesse dematerialized. And it's been that way since. My arms are cramping from holding Susannah, and I have a huge headache from listening to owls hooting for so long. Why hasn't Jesse returned already? Did something go wrong? The thought created jitters in my stomach, and I coughed a few times to break this damn eerie silence.  
  
"Can you take over holding her for awhile?" I asked the lad at the back. "She's rather heavy."  
  
He merely smirked. "I believe your brother asked you directly to take care of her while he's granting his lover's request?"  
  
I glared at him. "But you're not exactly doing anything except sitting there. What's wrong with making yourself useful?"  
  
This time, he didn't even bother to reply. While he hummed to himself softly in a tone I do not recognize, I sat there fuming about modern idiots. After some time, I finally lifted my head up and glanced outside. The car is positioned in a very weird angle, with the top hanging up and the bottom down. It seems as if this time we've fallen into a deep hole, only wider with lots of space on both sides. Susannah really is a very bad driver. Who has ever heard of two consecutive crashes in one night?  
  
I looked up, and saw that we didn't really fall from that high. Someone skilled can even jumped down here without harming himself. Climbing back up though would be a problem, I guess.  
  
Suddenly I saw a flash of lightning, then heard the deep rumbles of thunder in the distance. First the sight and sound were distant and vague, but gradually it became more frightening. Feeling nervous, I turned back to the lad again.  
  
"Oh, shit," I heard him mutter. "Looks like there's gonna be a huge thunderstorm. And now, of all times. How's she doing up there?"  
  
Thanks, I thought sarcastically, for not caring the least about ME. But all bitter thoughts were pushed out of my head when I heard a soft moan coming from the lips of Susannah herself.  
  
Ironic that he chose that moment to rush forward into the seat parallel to me. The driver's seat, as they call it.  
  
"Is she awake?" He asked, sounding worried. He peeled several strands of her hair away from her cheek. Susannah looked unbelievably pale and white. She slowly opened her emerald green eyes. Sweat trickled down her face, and she was breathing rather raggedly.  
  
"Where the hell is that brother of yours?" The lad grumbled, though sounding genuinely concerned. "What's taking him so long?"  
  
"I don't know," I said, my eyes gazing straight into Susannah's unusually large ones. "But I think you should just go get help. I don't think she can wait that much longer."  
  
Nodding, the lad complied and quickly dematerialized, leaving me alone with Susannah. The sound of thunder kept growing louder and louder, and the flashes of lightning brighter than ever. However, still no rain has yet fallen.  
  
After awhile, just as I thought no one is ever going to come for us, I heard a noise from above. More clearly, footsteps. Puzzled by this, I rolled down the window and stuck my head out. When I looked up and saw who it was, I could feel my heart stopping for a long second.  
  
Oh no, this is not someone that has come to rescue us from this gigantic nightmare. It's that same guy that tried to rape Susannah before! The one that owns this car I'm sitting in right now, holding Susannah.  
  
Oh yeah. I gingerly laid Susannah on the driver's seat as I heard the lad jump down, landing beside the car.  
  
I watched, as if transfixed, as he flung open the door and grabbed Susannah out, promoting a scream from her. Well, at least she's fully awake now. That's a plus to this impossible situation.  
  
It didn't register to me what the boy was going to do to her. I thought he was being nice and taking her to a hospital. Or something equally ridiculous for me to believe. How stupid. I only realized the dreadful and terrible truth when a pair of trousers suddenly flew into my face, blocking my vision.  
  
Slowly, I willed my hands to peel it off and stared out of the opened door. The lad must have been completely plastered, to try something like this with a severely injured young lady. But even though I knew I had to do something, I still sat there, frozen as a statue.

  
  
A/n- Sorry if this chapter sucked, but I have something disgusting up my sleeve. Review, please?


	10. Chapter 10

A/n- I just finished reading A Great and Terrible Beauty, a meaningful and deeeeeeeep book, and my thoughts are still confused and I have a huge headache. So I apologize in advance if anything I write may sound too out of character or don't make sense.  
  
Also, special thanks to SweetestReject!

  
  
Chapter 10  
  
**Paul's POV  
**  
"Wake up," A small voice hissed into my ear. Though the sound was no bigger than the chirp of a cricket, still I jerked awake immediately as if the loud cheering after a football game was what startled me awake.  
  
Sitting up quickly, I glanced around and saw that indeed I was not where I was supposed to be. As in, my surroundings include no hospital bed, hospital TV, hospital fridge, hospital curtains, hospital sofa, or anything of the sort. Instead, if I am correct, I am in Shadowland.  
  
Confused and a little annoyed, I turned toward the person that awoke me. I don't know what exactly I was expecting, but it was surely not a small girl no older than seven or eight holding tight onto a patch of my shirt. She wore a long and simple dress, and her feet were tiny and bare. Dark, almond eyes were carved into her face, complete with thin lips, a long nose, and high cheekbones. I stared at her, forcing her to look away at last.  
  
"Who are you?" I asked, curious despite myself. She looked awfully like someone that I know, whom I can't really pinpoint right now.  
  
"That's not important," She said, squirming under my penetrating gaze. "I brought you here to tell you something. Or rather, show you." She corrected herself.  
  
I watched and listened in fascination as she muttered to herself for a bit. I didn't catch a single word, for she is clearly a very fast talker, and I am sorry to say I didn't even grasp what language she was speaking in. But that's not important. After awhile, she seemed to have finally settled on a decision.  
  
"Think," She said curtly. "Picture what you dreamed."  
  
"Eh, what?" I questioned, not bothering to mask my amusement and confusion. Not much to impress here.  
  
"Remember?" She asked, cocking an eyebrow at me. "The visions?"  
  
Visions? What visions? What is this girl talking about? I saw no visions. The only thing I am in fact seeing is floating clouds of white all around us. That's the only color in this place. Pure white. I strained my look to look further ahead, but my view is blocked by a fog thicker than Jesse De Silva's head. I sighed and turned back to the girl.  
  
She's looking at me expectantly, as if sure I would know what the hell the 'visions' she's talking about are. When I gave her a completely blank face, she glared at me.  
  
"So," I spoke, trying to sound charming but no succeeding in the least. "You brought me here to see visions?" Not that I cared why. I wasn't really even irritated that she interrupted my beauty sleep. I was getting bored to death there with nothing interesting whatsoever to do all day. Sleep should be considered a distraction, paradise even compared to listening to nurses talk you to death whenever possible. But of course, a cute girl (Bear with me here. Who said seven years old girls couldn't be called cute?) summoning you into Shadowland should be at least entertaining, if not exciting. Even if her cryptism is quite annoying.  
  
"No," she said flatly. "You should have already seen them."  
  
I coughed to keep from laughing in her face. That would have been rude, wouldn't it? Especially since she probably believes she has said nothing funny at all. And she hasn't. I just have a simple habit of finding young girls acting like George Bush rather hilarious.  
  
"You don't know?" She asked with just the right amount of panic. "Do you just not remember them, or are you sure you have never seen them?"  
  
Seems to me the answer is pretty obvious. But I didn't want to disappoint those big brown eyes of hers. They look so hopeful. It would be pointless to cast that hope away. Especially since I might even come up with something that's not total crap if I bothered to think about it. So you can see, I had no choice but to change the subject back to something she'd intentionally avoided discussing.  
  
"Really. Who are you? Where are you from? Are you alive or dead?"  
  
The glare is back on that adorable face of hers. "That, I believe, is none of your business."  
  
"But I have to call you something, don't I?" I smirked, feeling very amused with this conversation.  
  
She obviously thinks I'm not taking her seriously enough. Okay, so I'm not. I don't go around respecting and encouraging small children's ideas and beliefs. I don't happen to be one of those compassionate guys that view little kids as equals. No. Paul Slater knows that he is superior to all.  
  
Sorry if that sounded the tiniest bit conceited, but really, I'm not a pompous person. I'm actually being very honest by stating the wonderfully phenomenal truth.  
  
The girl hisses at me. "I think being called 'the girl' would be marvelous, thank you. But back to the matter at hand. Are you absolutely sure that you saw no vision when you drifted off to sleep?"  
  
Her tone was what did me in. I furrowed my eyebrows together, so it would look like I was really trying to recollect earlier events. A familiar buzzing started sounding in my head, and I closed my eyes, trying hard to remember. Finally, after what feels like a century, I opened my orbs and shrugged. I did feel as if there's something tugging at the edge of my mind, but I can't seem to grasp it. Maybe time will help.  
  
I heard a rustling sound and turned my head to look. A dark outline seeped through the shadows, and it's walking nearer and nearer. The girl held on tighter onto my shirt, and she hissed, "Well, if you can't remember, then here's someone who'll help you recall that dream. Think back to the visions. It'll help you save her."  
  
Um, excuse me? I don't believe I understood a single word of that nonsense. Just as I opened my mouth to ask her what exactly she thinks she's talking about, she disappeared.  
  
I shook my head, a smile tugging at the corners of a very gorgeous mouth, if I do say so myself. Kids these days. They would do anything for attention.  
  
Ah, even if they act as if they're serious about the whole damn incident regarding visions and dreams. And even if they did summon you into the cold, dark (or should I say light here) Shadowland for the entire purpose. And even if they are powerful enough to do it.  
  
Still. They're called 'immature brats' for a reason.  
  
I was still musing over our comical conversation when the fog finally lifted, revealing a very pissed off looking Jesse De Silva.  
  
  
  
**Jesse's POV**_ (I'm sorry! Pardon my sucky Jesse-writing skills for a bit longer, all right?) _

I am staring at the face of Paul Slater. The lying, conniving, manipulating Paul Slater. The Paul Slater that I knew I'd loathe with a vengeance the first time I laid my eyes on him. The Paul Slater that tried to steal my Susannah away from me. The Paul Slater that gave my Susannah nightmares for weeks. Oh, and the Paul Slater that I'd need the help of in order to save Susannah this time.  
  
I gritted my teeth together, and willed my arm to stay at my sides. My hands balled into fists involuntarily, and I felt my ghost fingernails cutting into my palms.  
  
"De Silva," Paul said cuttingly, sneering at the sight of me as usual. I kept my expression blank, even though I was madly fuming inside. He cannot see how much he affects me.  
  
"Slater," I replied, keeping my voice even. There would be no Susannah this time to stop me from murdering Paul Slater. I would do it, if I didn't give a –pardon my French- about Susannah's welfare right now.  
  
Then, before we could enter a staring match that could doubtlessly last for hours, I quickly explained about what had happened to Susannah. As I went through everything, I saw understanding slowly dawning in his eyes. And then some confusion, too. At last, when I finished, instead of helping me get to querida right away, Paul Slater shot out with a "How did you get here?"  
  
Um, definitely not the question I was expecting. All the harder to think of an answer, especially since I myself am not too sure of that. The only thing I know is, one minute I was standing beside Slater's bed looking at a lifeless form of him, and thinking that he dropped dead in his sleep, when suddenly I ended up here. No warning. No anything. Just a unexpected pull and I was walking through thick, white clouds that was leading me to nowhere until I found him in this particular patch.  
  
"I don't know," I said in answer to his question. "How did you get here?"  
  
Which was a very stupid thing to ask, I guess, since he's a mediator and has powers beyond my imagination.  
  
To which not only does he use to his advantage, but also his 'clever' tricks of manipulation.  
  
"How did I get here?" Slater smirked, mocking me. "What would you say if I told you that a little girl brought me here to question me in relation to visions?"  
  
My palms are really starting to ache from the nails biting in. My fists are really starting to get sick of not hitting something. Maybe I should just...  
  
No. We're getting nowhere fast. I'm here to ask for his help considering Susannah, dammit!  
  
"We need to go to Susannah immediately," I said, my voice tight.  
  
"Yes, I realize that," Slater replied breezily. "But first I need to know how you got here so I can get you out."  
  
"What?" I almost spat into his face. "Shouldn't you already be able to do all those fancy stuff?"  
  
"Shifting, you mean?" He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. In fact, it was more like a curl of the lips than an actual, brilliant smile that Querida sometimes bestow upon me. No that I'm comparing my Querida to such an offending figure of Satan.  
  
"Well, you see," He continued when I didn't respond. "I believe the girl I was speaking with earlier was a very strong mediator and shifter, even if she is merely seven or eight years of age. She was able to bring me here with will alone. Same goes for you, if I'm not mistaken. Because desire coupled with energy and force is a very powerful combination, as you should probably know?" Seeing my irritated nod, he went on. "When you showed up, I tried to shift back into my body at the hospital, but was unsuccessful. I was confused at first, but it seems as if your story stirred something inside me, and I remembered this dream I was having tonight."  
  
"Slater," I interrupted. "Get to the point already."  
  
"Well fine. The thing is, the girl 'accidentally' held onto my power when she left me. I'm guessing her will alone wasn't enough to pull her through this one after all, so she stole my power and forgot to give it back. That is one possibility. Another is somehow she closed the gates to the Realm without realizing it. Amateur." Here he scoffs. I can't say I'm following this story along very well. It's hard to tell if he's just making this up. But I guess one thing is clear.  
  
"So, what do we do now?"  
  
Slater lifted his eyes to mine. His bright blue eyes penetrated straight into mine as he says, "Find the portal."  
  
"How?" I asked nervously. We're never going to be able to get to Susannah at this rate.  
  
As if reading my thoughts, Slater replied, "We have to search for it. It may take hours, or even days. For the time being, we're stuck here.  
  
"Suze will have to save herself."

  
  
A/n- Hm, I think I'll just leave it there. Ahh, my chapters are becoming shorter and shorter! Well, I'll deal.  
  
So, there will be no knight in shinning armor! Mwahahaha, if you can't tell, I'm not feeling very generous toward them right now. But that's just a bonus. I wanted Suze to get out of this one herself anyway. Jesse and Paul, working together is rather cute, don't you think?  
  
Yeah, whatever.  
  
I'll explain more in later chapters. Just not about the girl. She'll come back. Not anytime soon, though.  
  
You're welcome to review and yell at me. I really don't care. I like being called mean because of my cliffies. But I am not so evil that I'll actually have that creepy dude rape Suze. I have a plan... a rather distasteful –or pleasant, depends on how you look at it- one, as I mentioned earlier. Just review for now, please?  
  
Thank yous!  
  
-Enelya


	11. Chapter 11

A/n- This is a rated PG-13 story and it will STAY one. I don't even like writing fluff, let alone lemons. So no, there will be no R rated stuff in this. I've even decided that whatever will happen isn't really considered disgusting. Just different.

Thanks for the reviews, keep them coming!

Oh, and I did change the title from Belonging to Eternally Yours. I don't know what belonging had to do with anything… but it was like the only thing I could think of when I started this. But now that I actually have a plot, a title is easier to decide on. Okay, just had to get that out of my system… so now moving on with this chapter…

WARNING: This chapter is really boring. Also crappy. However, I did try...

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Chapter 11

**Paul's POV**

This silence is actually starting to become rather uncomfortable. De Silva and I haven't spoken a single word to each other ever since we started walking through this still ever so thick fog. The ground is light as cotton candy, and the sky reaches so high that it seems as if heaven is more farther away than ever. Among this haze of silence and purity, I could just make out the sounds of water dripping near by.

We walked on, neither one of us saying anything. Stealing a glance over at him, I saw a dark profile emanated with the glimmering light ghosts often possess. His shoulders were rigid, his form stiff. His hands were balled up at his sides, and his mouth was set in a straight line. Jeez, relax much?

I sighed loudly, but De Silva didn't even so much as soften his thundering footsteps. Clearing my throat with a meaningful look in his direction, I crossed my arms across my chest and heaved another huge sigh. I watched as a flicker of annoyance appeared in his eyes, except he continued to ignore me.

And on and on this went, us refusing to look at each other, let alone opening our mouth. It felt like eternity before we finally escaped the mist of clouds, ending up… right where we began.

The bright side to this, however, is that we can actually see what's around us this time. Even though there wasn't that much to see, since it was just more confusing white dandelion petals dancing in the air.

I gazed at the clear shadows surrounding everything, and I could feel the beginning of a scornful look taking root. Before I could say anything too negative, De Silva pointed his fingers at something in the distance and spoke. "You see that light over there?"

I squinted in the direction he pointed toward. Barely, just barely, I could make out the blaze of something. It looked big –or small- enough to be a door. Well, it may only be a lost star crying for its wasted mother, but it's still worth a try.

We're totally lost also in this place with no one around to ask for help –not that I'm implying that we need it- so what do we have to lose?

Sighing again, I nodded and said, "Let's go."

**Jesse's POV**

I don't know what Slater's problem is. It seems he has this unspoken goal that he has to annoy me to death. Does he want conversation that much? If so, he picked to wrong person to try to have one with. Here I am, worried about Susannah and what'll happen to her if we don't save her in time, and Slater is dillydallying and taking his time.

But he can do whatever he wants, I thought as I stared up at the majestic door in front of me. It doesn't have any knob. It doesn't have any hinge. It doesn't have any of the fancy stuff modern doors do. Instead, I guess you can say that it's just a piece of gleaming plastic standing in our way.

"Don't just stand there," I heard Slater say impatiently from behind me. "Open it!"

Open it? What is he on? He wants me to open this thing? "But there's no knob!" I snapped, glaring at him.

I mean, how _are_ you supposed to open a door without a knob? It's humanly impossible, that's how. Slater, of course, has a mind –shockingly- of his own and decides to prove that he's God and can anything possible, including opening a completely sealed door lacking any sort of handle or knob or any other device that may help him unlock it.

Oh yes. He pushed me aside, _and tried to knock the thing down._ Really, how ridiculous is that? He just went at it, determined that he has more force than Hercules, trying to merely shove it out of the way. When it didn't work, he only tried again. And again. And again.

It was boring me to simply watch him. Does this guy have no ability to accept defeat? The door is not normal, therefore it cannot be broken down with only human power. I sighed, and said in a patient voice: "Can't you just give up? It's not going to work."

He actually took the time to stop and glare at me. "Oh? Would you care to try?"

Well, what else was there to do? I reached out a hand tentatively, and slowly my fingers stretched toward the light covering the door. A few more inches… and it's there.

I was really anticipating that I had to act like an idiot and try to break the thing down, but I was proven wrong. As soon as my fingers touched the door, the whole place changed. The white became a terribly dark black. The floating dandelions became –can you believe- _bats_.

One flew straight for me, but I dodged just in the nick of time. Covering my face with my hands, and trying to block out the awful sound of the screeches the bats are making, I found Slater not too far away from me. He wasn't even paying any attention to the racket these flying animals are making. I watched in fascination as one of them headed towards his head, but with a sudden force it was stopped. It was like an invisible wall was separating them or something.

And Slater himself? He was studying another door.

I walked over to him, ignoring the bats. I found out they couldn't harm me either, with the barrier and all. I didn't understand any of that, but hey, this is the 21st century, who knows what else have changed since my time. Back then, teenage girls and guys certainly could not see ghosts.

Not that I know of, anyway.

"De Silva," He turned to me as I stopped beside him, looking at the door with no real interest. "Open this one."

I raised one of my eyebrows. "Excuse me? Before we jump into anything else, shouldn't you tell me where exactly we are right now?"

I looked around, and noticed for the first time that we ended up in a gloomy corridor. Gazing to one side, I'd have to say that I saw no end at all. Same goes for the other side. A never ending hallway? Haven't I been here before?

That time with Susannah… but no, this is different. The atmosphere doesn't feel the same at all. Also, the spaces in between seem wider here somehow… the ceiling higher.

I gave Slater a questioning glance, but he merely shrugged. "Shadowland, still. Just another dimension."

Oh.

"So, look at this. Can you feel the energy arising from it?" He asked, pointing to the door.

Stepping closer, I inspected it. What I felt wasn't exactly energy. But I do know that I felt compelled to open it and uncover its secrets.

Looking around for a second time, I saw that this door is different than the other ones. Its colors are darker, richer. The designs are more complex, more mysterious. Somehow… I'm drawn to it.

Just then, Slater muttered a word under his breath. His voice was small and distant, as if he was talking to himself. I didn't catch what he said, but it doesn't really matter.

I shivered, even though the air is not cold at all. As if I was spellbound, I took several more steps, until I was directly in front of the door. There is a force, a voice, within that is telling me to open this… this time, the door even has a knob. How convenient.

I heard the sound a bat's shrill screech, but I ignored it. Instead, I found my right hand lifting up, as if it has a mind of its own. Then, ever so slowly, it grazed the handle, and grasped onto it. I stood, transfixed, and watched as the knob started to turn…

**Suze's POV**

Okay, _this is NOT happening…_

Where the hell are Jesse and Paul? How long has it been? They should definitely be here by now. I mean, it doesn't take that much time to dematerialize, wake Paul up, and have him shift here. Five minutes at the longest! So why does it feel as if half an hour already passed?

"Eek!" I shrieked as I was slapped onto the cold, wet ground. Yes, wet. I could hear the low pattering of raindrops landing on the car next to us. A few hit my face, but the cool sensation was more of a relief than anything.

I rubbed my head tiredly, trying to sit up. Immediately, I saw stars dancing in front of me and a head splitting headache erupted. A loud groaned escaped my lips, and I collapsed onto the dirt ground again. Look, I couldn't help it, okay? I did faint twice, for goodness sake. This guy did NOT have to throw me out here, causing more severe pain for my poor body.

So, while I was busy worrying over how many broken bones I have, I guess drunkie sure wasn't taking his time getting naked. Before I knew what had happened, I was pinned flat onto the damp ground, and my jeans and underwear were ripped off. Well, okay, not ripped off. He actually took the time to unbutton, unzip, and take it offa me. Really, I would have put up a fiercer battle if I were in any other condition any other day. But I was _exhausted,_ and all my efforts of struggling ended up in vain.

For someone who's plastered, he sure has some quick hands. I was completely exposed –well, I DID managed to keep him from tearing my shirt off. But I guess he didn't really care about that just then- in less than three seconds.

I couldn't think. I really couldn't. All I knew was that I had to prevent him from raping me. Without wasting any time, I kicked him. Okay, so I was aiming for the groin. No big surprise that I kicked his leg instead. I may practice kickboxing everyday, but even I can't aim that accurate when we're close to only several inches apart. And the kick to his leg? No damage, no damage done at all.

I shrieked again, and tried to move out of the way. But he is STRONG. _This isn't happening… _I thought to myself again. _This CAN'T be happening… please tell me this is merely a dream…_

Except, of course, it is not. And if I don't do _something_ useful soon, I was going to lose my virginity to a total stranger that I don't even _know_, much less like. Or LOVE.

So, that being said, I hope you understand why I did what I did next. Which is, well…

I peed on him.

It's not like it was done intentionally. Okay, fine, it was. But I had to pee anyway! The last time I went to the bathroom was like, after lunch. So yeah, it was a long one, and it felt good after I was finished.

But anyway, the idea itself did not just pop into my head randomly. Nope. Actually, you see, at the last minute I remembered something I read a long time ago back in New York. Gina and I were looking over newspaper articles for an English project at school. As we were trying to find some good articles to write summaries on, one caught my eye. I don't remember what exactly it was called, but the basic summary was this: At a party, a girl and a guy hooked up. The guy lured her to his apartment, and somehow they ended up on his bed. The girl had only went there to make out, and nothing more. So she freaked out when it became obvious that he was going to rape her. So in the heat of the moment, she peed on him and he became so disgusted that he let her go. She, of course, escaped before he can change his mind.

What, it was a true story! Do you think reporters are so stupid that they couldn't tell lies from realities? And besides, it sounded truthful to me. Guys really can't take a girl just peeing on him when he was going to experience one of the most pleasant –notice the sarcasm here- feelings he has ever known. And now, I get to test the theory.

I stared at him. He seemed frozen, and his eyes were more or less dead. He didn't move at all, and I couldn't even tell if he was breathing or not, he was that still. Sheesh, should he be _that _shocked? Girls like me do not let themselves get taken advantage of without first doing everything humanly possible.

Hey, if he can't move, then I sure wasn't going to just lie there and wait for him to come back down to Earth. I had gotten some of the wetness on myself, but that's okay. I tried to jump up, but had to cling onto the car for support when I collapsed again. I peeked into the car window, and saw Ria sitting in there, staring straight back at me, her mouth making a small O. She held the guy's trousers in her hands, her fingers grasping it so tight that I wouldn't be surprised if it started to tear.

I yanked opened the door, and motioned for her to get out. She must have seen the panic in my eyes, because she immediately got her butt off that seat. I looked back down at drunkie, and he still lay there, unmoving, his breath ragged, as if he has been running a marathon. I sighed. The shock still hasn't worn off?

No matter. I quickly spotted my underwear and jeans lying several feet away from where he had thrown them, and half ran, half limped there to get them. Hurriedly, I put them on.

Ria was then standing in the cold night air, getting soaked because the rain had just started to come down in huge and rapid drops. I was drenched also, but I didn't really care. The guy had finally started to come to his senses, and at that moment he sat up, and shot me a death glare. I gulped, and managed a timid smile his way.

His expression twisted into one of such disgust and horror that I had to secretly hide a triumphant grin. So it's true.

He started for me, a determined look in his eyes. I tried to avert my eyes, because he WAS stark naked. Um, I do not want a body that gross with eh, pee dripping from his upper thighs, to haunt my nightmares, thankyouverymuch.

But then I panicked. He was drawing nearer and nearer, backing me up against this dirt wall thingie. What, is he going to beat me up, now that he figured out he doesn't want to rape me? Or is he so stupid that he actually wants to try again? _Sigh. _Guys and their male pride. When will they ever learn to give up?

Um, Suze, I thought as he was almost right in front of me. _Not a good time to be thinking about that right now…_

Okay, no way can I kick him again. I can barely lift my leg, it hurts so much. I think I really did twist or break some bones there. So what else was there to do? Is this the time when I slap him and he falls to the ground? Or what?

Seconds later, it seems I didn't have to worry about any of that. Before my very eyes, drunkie's head was snapped back, and without a moment's hesitation he flew over the car, landing on the other side. The kicker? Ria De Silva herself.

"Wow," I murmured. "I'm impressed. I didn't know that you knew how to do that…"

Her reply? "There's a lot about me that you don't know, Miss Susannah Simon." She looked over my shoulder with a faraway look on her face. The expression was sad, even mournful. I wanted to thank her, but suddenly I was on the ground again, gasping for breath. The events that took place tonight really took a tow on me. I was just _so_ tired… and sleepy… I didn't want to worry about drunkie waking up and wondering what evil spirit had kicked him. I didn't want to pass out again without knowing if I'll ever wake up… I didn't want to…

Instantly, I heard the sound of police sirens in the distance, drawing closer and closer. Ria snapped back to attention, looking alarmed. I just smiled, and closed my eyes, knowing soon that I'll be all right. The raindrops was like a lullaby luring me into dreamland, and I gave myself up willingly for a LONG rest… hey, I deserve one, right?

However, before I could finally just let myself fall, a nagging thought from the edge of my mind jumped into full conscious.

Jesse…

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A/n- Told you it wasn't going to be disgusting. Just different, right? Well, I know this chapter isn't as good as it's supposed to be… anyway, review please!


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